


144 Days

by violettathepiratequeen



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: All Seasons, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because it's literally one scene for every episode, But no Angel or Riley bashing, Canon Compliant, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Heavy emphasis on Spuffy wherever possible, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 30,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28663368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violettathepiratequeen/pseuds/violettathepiratequeen
Summary: 144 Buffy episodes. 144 scenes that never happened. Some canon-compliant, some fix-its, some that just happen because I need them to happen!Will be posted in no particular order (the twelve most recent will be listed here).14. Doomed15. Fool For Love16. Crush17. Primeval18. Welcome to the Hellmouth19. Becoming Part 120. Superstar21. The Dark Age22. The Initiative23. Real Me24. Helpless25. Get it Done
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 76
Kudos: 71





	1. Dirty Girls

Faith took another drag of her cigarette and blew it out into the night sky. “I don’t know, Malfoy,” she said. “I don’t think she’ll make an appearance before sunrise. Seemed pretty pent-up to me.”

“She will,” Spike said in a low voice, leaning on the opposite railing from her. “She’s not out jonesing for a slay right now, she’s…” he broke off, and didn’t finish. 

“Yeah, well.” Faith kicked the toe of his boot with hers. “What makes you think she’ll come in the back way? If she’s trying to sneak in, the stairs are closer to the front door.”

“Because this is where she comes,” Spike said, still in a low voice, as if he wasn’t talking to her anymore. He probably wasn’t. He hadn’t even looked at her the entire time. Faith kept fingering the packet of cigarettes in her pocket, waiting for him to ask, but he was just leaning on the railing, looking out. 

And then suddenly he stiffened, and stood up straight. He held his hand out to her, but still didn’t look her way. “D’ya mind?”

Faith raised an eyebrow. “What, now you want to light up?”

“Please, Faith, I’ll buy you another packet,” Spike said. Faith rolled her eyes, but slapped her packet in his hand, and he stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it just as Buffy pushed through the trees into her backyard. She looked at them in mild surprise, and then her look turned cold, and she marched towards them, staring down at the ground. 

“B,” Faith said. “Look...you don’t have to go in there.”

“Well, I have to go somewhere,” Buffy replied in a clipped tone. “And there’s nowhere I can be alone anymore, not even the backyard, apparently, so…”

“Soulboy junior is only out here ‘cause he was waiting for you,” Faith said, ignoring the dirty look Spike threw her. Whether it was at the name or for throwing him under the bus, Faith couldn’t have said. 

Buffy turned to look at Faith, and her features softened enough to look like she might want to smile, but she just pushed past them, and stepped up to the door. 

But she didn’t go in, and Spike gave Faith a pleading look. She just mouthed the word “no” and smirked as she perched on top of the fence. Spike glared at her, and then turned to look at Buffy. “Slayer,” he said quietly. “Don’t...don’t torture yourself. Not over this.”

“And what should I be torturing myself over?” Buffy asked, whipping around on him. “Having your chip removed? Inviting Faith back into my home? Everytime I make a decision someone fights me on something, and tonight, Spike, tonight? I really, really should have listened.”

Spike shook his head. “You’re the general here, not them. This was your battle plan, and yeah, it went south, but you pick yourself back up, and you move on, pet.”

“Move on?” she snapped, her voice carrying a slight tremor. “What, like it was no big deal? Huh, guess that didn’t work, oh well, what’s next?”

“Yes!”

“No!” she cried emphatically. “Girls died tonight, Spike, others were injured, and Xander…” she stopped, and swallowed. “Xander…” she began wilting, and she walked quickly back over to the porch steps, and sank down on them.

Faith had been interested that Buffy was so chummy with a vampire, ensouled or no. She didn’t really know why this one had signed on, when he’d definitely been evil just a couple years ago. And tonight he’d been waiting for Buffy to come home, and knew that she’d come through the backyard. She was fascinated. She wanted to see what would unfold. 

But it didn’t really click for her, until she saw Spike lower himself down next to Buffy, and wrap his arms around her. Buffy began sobbing, loudly, and unrestrained, which in itself was enough to startle Faith. She had no idea Buffy ever let her defenses down enough to do that. But what was even more startling was that she let herself fall into Spike’s embrace. She fell against his chest, she clutched his coat in her hands, and she cried and cried, while Spike just held her tightly. He laid his cheek on her head, and began slowly rubbing her back. “It’s all right, love,” he murmured. “It’s all right, hush now...”

Faith just stared, until she caught her mouth hanging open, and quickly shut it. She’d told herself she’d grown in the Big House, matured or whatever, and she didn’t have to be jealous of Buffy for petty reasons anymore. 

But damn it, how did she always get the hot vampires to fall for her? Faith knew she herself had a friend in Angel for life, and even Spike seemed to enjoy her company enough to trade quips and share smokes with her, but she wasn’t Buffy. To either of them. And she never would be.

Faith listened until Buffy’s sobs grew quieter, and she moved her head to lean on Spike’s shoulder. She was still whimpering, and gulping on occasion, and Spike continued to lightly stroke her back as he held her, whispering soothingly into her hair.

Faith slipped off the fence, and quietly went back into the house. Well. Buffy had fallen pretty hard tonight. She was lucky to have someone to catch her. 


	2. The Prom

He came. Angel came to the prom, in a tux and everything, and now here he was holding her close, dancing the night away with her.

Well...not the entire night. It was already getting pretty late, and there wouldn’t be that many more songs after this anyway. But that was all right. Buffy had asked for one perfect high school moment, and after the Class Protector Award, this dance was already the second perfect moment that evening. If this dance was all she had, it might have been forever for how content Buffy was right now.

But the final notes of the song did ring out, and die away, and Buffy took a breath as she lifted her head and looked at Angel. He smiled at her, and then he looked up over her head, and his smile slipped away as he noticed something.

Buffy looked at his face in confusion, and then turned behind her, to see Willow hobbling over to a seat at their table, as Oz carefully lowered her into a chair. Buffy grabbed Angel’s hand and dragged him over to the table. “Willow?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

Willow smiled perkily. “Yeah! You know me, wild party animal, sometimes I have to be stopped for my own good,” she said. She waved, grinning. “Hi Angel.”

“Hey,” he said.

“Glad you could make it, man,” Oz said. He crouched down and lifted up one of Willow’s ankles, and she hissed in pain and kicked his shin on reflex. 

“Ow,” Willow groaned, then gasped. “Oh, Oz, I’m sorry!” 

“Don’t worry,” Oz said, though Buffy had caught his grimace. “If you don’t get kicked at a party at least once, you’re doing it wrong.”

“What happened?” Buffy asked. 

“My stupid shoe broke,” Willow said, huffing impatiently. 

“She twisted her ankle,” Oz volunteered. 

Giles wandered over then from the snack table, and looked at Willow in concern. “Willow? Are you all right?”

“I think if you don’t twist your ankle at a party, you’re doing it wrong,” Willow said demurely.

“Well, you heard her,” Buffy said. “Everyone twist your ankles, right now.”

“Let’s get you back to the library,” Giles said, holding an arm out to Willow. “It probably isn’t serious, but I can take a better look at it there.”

“Can I do anything?” Buffy asked anxiously, and was startled to hear the word “no!” come at her from the three faces in front of her.

Willow waved her hand. “Enjoy the rest of the prom, Buffy, the rest of us got a head start on it anyway.”

“You’ll need ice,” Buffy told them, as Giles and Oz both got an arm under her.

“Yes...well, we’ll manage,” Giles smiled at her. “Have a nice time, you two.”

Buffy watched Willow limp out, leaning heavily on their shoulders, and realized she was still holding Angel's hand as he gave hers a squeeze.

She turned back to face him, apologetically. “Angel, I--”

“I know.” He squeezed her hand again. “You need to help her. I get it.”

She tried to blink back tears, and hugged him. This was better anyway, she realized. If they’d made it to the end of the prom, there would have been the awkward question of what do we do now.

When he pulled back, he lightly brushed his knuckles along her cheek, and smiled. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered.

“I’m glad I did,” he said. “You look beautiful, Buffy. Really.”

And then he turned, and was gone, and Buffy swallowed the rest of her tears, and found a nearly empty punch bowl. She tossed out its contents, and dumped the rest of the ice into it, before making her way towards the library. 

Willow looked up as she barged through the doors. “Buffy!” she said. “I told you I was fine!”

“It’s okay,” Buffy said. Willow's leg was propped up in Oz’s lap, and Giles was examining it. Buffy found a folded handkerchief in one of Giles’ drawers, and began wrapping ice into it. “I had what I wanted, and besides, it would have been harder if I’d stayed there with him. I’d have wanted to go back to his place afterwards, and I’m honestly not sure if he would have let me or not.” She finished wrapping up the ice, and walked over to them, stopping when she saw them all staring at her. “What?”

Giles just gave her a fond smile, and shook his head. He held out his hand for the ice, which he proceeded to hand over to Oz. 

“So, Class Protector Award,” Willow said. “That was pretty exciting, huh? Bet you were really surprised by that, huh?”

Buffy squinted at her. “You wouldn’t happen to have known anything about it, would you?”

Willow looked at Oz, but he was concentrating on holding the ice pack to her ankle, and didn’t glance up. “It was Oz’s idea,” she burst out, and then clapped her hands over her mouth.

Oz shook his head. “I didn’t know people were writing in ballots. I only knew they were gonna give you something because one of my buddies on the committee told me. I just came up with the umbrella suggestion.”

“Well, I love it,” Buffy said. “Thank you.” She stood behind Willow’s chair, and watched as Giles wrapped her ankle up. He patted her on the shoulder, and said, “I suppose you know to keep it elevated.”

She nodded. “Thanks.” She stood up, and Oz helped her hobble out of the library. 

There was silence for a moment, and then Buffy said, “Well…” and didn’t have anything else to say. She started walking towards the doors.

“Buffy.”

She turned back to Giles, and he went over to his office, and held her award out to her. “Don’t forget this.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She thought she’d left it at their table. She didn’t know he’d brought it back here. “Thanks.”

Giles handed it to her, and then he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. Buffy was surprised, but she wasn’t complaining. She closed her eyes and held him close. “I’m very proud of you,” Giles said, his voice muffled. “Very proud.”

And there it was. Perfect moment of the night #3.


	3. Wrecked

Spike looked back at Willow, who had dropped to the ground in a sobbing, groveling mess. He stared, trying to make sense of all of this. He knew her powers were getting out of hand, but she’d always been one of the fiercest of Dawn’s protectors. Spike found himself feeling betrayed that she would lose control so much to let any harm come to the Bit, and if  _ he _ was feeling it, the two Summers girls next to him must be feeling it even more.

But there was nothing he could do, and anyway, strangely, he was the one who had come out on top in all of this. He was the one being trusted, he was the one who had done no wrong. Best to just stay quiet and follow Buffy’s lead.

Buffy looked back at her friend as well, and then up at Spike. “Give me a minute,” she whispered, and Spike nodded, and took Dawn’s arm, leading her out into the street. 

Dawn sniffed, and leaned against his arm. “I hate Willow,” she muttered.

_ Preaching to the choir, Nibblet. _ “No, you don’t,” he said. “She gets all irresponsibly spell-happy when someone leaves her, is all. You remember when Dogboy broke up with her, don’t you?”

Dawn looked at him, and scowled. “Don’t do that. I know you’re on my side.”

Spike sighed, and leaned against the wall. “Yeah. Reckon I am at that.”

“She said we were going to the movies,” Dawn huffed. “But we went to some creepy office instead, and she just left me in the waiting room. I thought she actually wanted to spend time with me.” She scowled again. “Super naive of me, right? To think anyone actually wanted to spend time with me?”

He turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “You know where to find me if you need entertainin’ don’t you?”

“I tried.” Dawn shrugged. “You were asleep. Just like everyone else. That’s like, all anyone wants to do these days. Well, besides trying to get me killed.”

Spike’s heart twisted. “You came round? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I don’t know. I figured, vampire. It’d be like if you came in my room at 3 in the morning and wanted to play rummy or something.”

He was about to tell her that he didn’t adhere to vampire’s sleeping schedules unless it was convenient, when Buffy and Willow emerged. Buffy was holding Willow’s arm, and Willow, though she had stopped crying, still had puffy eyes, and was slumping against Buffy dejectedly. Buffy looked at Dawn. “I have to get her home,” she said. “Will you be okay if Spike takes you to get your arm looked at?”

Dawn frowned at her, but then shrugged, and looked away disinterestedly. “Sure. Whatever.”

Buffy looked torn, and Spike felt hatred anew for Willow in that moment for making Buffy choose between them. 

Buffy looked up at Spike then, and said, “I’m sorry I can’t come.”

He waved her off. “We’ll be fine, love.” 

“It’s just Willow really needs me right now.”

“I was sort of picking up on that, yeah.”

Buffy took a breath. “I’ll have Xander come by and relieve you.”

“You don’t have to do that, you know I’ll--”  
  
“I know,” Buffy interrupted. “But you’ve done more than enough.”

Spike felt a pang in his chest, and watched Buffy walk Willow away. She hadn’t said it cruelly, and maybe she hadn’t even realized what it would sound like. But she still didn’t want him around. If she needed him for Dawn, she would take him, but the minute she could get someone else to watch over her…

Spike sighed, and took hold of Dawn’s shoulders again, walking her in the opposite direction. The hospital wasn’t too far away, for which Dawn seemed grateful, and she sighed as they got into the waiting room. She plopped down beside Spike, and leaned into his side. 

“You hangin’ in there all right?”  
  
“My arm hurts,” she muttered. 

“I know.” 

Dawn was silent for a while, before she finally asked, “Is Buffy mad at you?”

Spike gave a faint smile. “When isn’t she mad at me?”

“I feel like everyone’s mad at everyone else right now,” Dawn said. “I don’t like it. I had to watch my parents fighting, and now I have to watch all of you guys do it.”

Spike really didn’t know what to say to that. Ever since Buffy had come back, he hadn’t really been interested in what everyone else was doing or thinking. Any drama that happened between them usually came to him via a casual remark long after it had taken place.

But what else was new?

“How’d your arm get hurt?”

Dawn sighed, a kind of a pained sigh that made Spike almost regret asking. “That demon was chasing us...and Willow just made a car unlock, and got in, and then made it start driving, and she wasn’t looking where she was going, and it crashed and we blacked out, and when I woke up…”

Spike leaned forward on his knees and rubbed his face. “She crashed the car? So it really wasn’t just a spell that had gone wrong, it was her putting you slap bang in danger?”

Dawn paused. “Yeah.”

“That witch better hope I never get this chip out,” Spike muttered.

"I figured that’s what you were thinking. So I hit her for you.”

Spike tilted his head and briefly smiled at her. “That’s my girl.”

Xander and Anya came soon after that, with Xander very pointedly telling Spike they could take it from here. Dawn didn’t protest, though she gave Spike a look as if begging him to assert his right to be there. But Buffy had already warned Spike away, so he just squeezed Dawn’s shoulder, smiled, and said, “See you soon, Little Bit,” and swaggered out of the hospital.

He headed to Buffy’s house as if on autopilot, but stopped when he’d only just come in sight of the house. She was dealing with too many problems right now for him to add to them. He was on thin ice with her as it was, and besides, he knew she’d come back to him. 

He turned and went back to his crypt instead. She’d come back to him. She would. She always did.


	4. First Date

“And the principal?” Spike asked. “How’s he fit in?”

Buffy looked at him, pointedly. The principal. Yeah, that was...that was a thing now. It had been a date, confirmed. He was into her, confirmed. And he’d definitely swept her off her feet with the whole slaying vampires in an alley, and telling her he was the son of one of her predecessors, and still delivering on a romantic dinner date. 

But he wasn’t for her, and Buffy hoped everyone could just quietly forget that she’d explored that option. She hoped he wouldn’t ask her out again, because he was one of hers now, and she fully intended to utilize him in her fight. It would just be awkward if she also had to turn him down in the midst of that.

Spike stayed where he was, sitting quietly, for a long while. She was so grateful to him for that, and she hoped he knew...hoped that telling him she wasn’t ready for him to not be there meant something to him. Because nobody else did this. No one else just let her sit still and quiet like this. They asked her what the next move was, or whether there was any news, or if they could get bagel bites next time someone went to the store. 

But eventually Spike stood up with a sigh. “Well,” he said. “Sun’ll be up soon, and neither of us have been to bed yet, so.” He shrugged. “We should grab our various lengths of siestas before I get kicked out of my bedroom and you have to go to work.”

“You still chaining yourself up?” Buffy asked.

He gave her a look, one that matched her own from a couple minutes ago. She stood up. “I’ll help you.”

His eyebrow gave the slightest of quirks, and then he turned and headed towards the basement. She followed him down the stairs, and watched as he slowly shed his jacket and kicked his boots off. He sat down warily on the cot, and looked at her.

Buffy reached for the chains hanging in the wall, and turned to him as she held them. “You don’t have to--”

“I’ll sleep easier if they’re there,” he said.

She pursed her lips, and nodded. Any other night she might have been able to talk him out of it, but she knew tonight, tonight especially, he didn’t want to let his guard down. She slowly closed the manacles around one of his wrists, and then the other, letting her hand linger for a moment as she closed the second one. 

He reached out and laid his hand on top of hers. He did this now, had done ever since she rescued him from the cave. She was always surprised that he did so, since he was so careful and reserved and neutral around her the rest of the time. But she loved when he did this, this gentle reminder that he was here, that he believed in her as much as she did in him. 

Spike shifted so that he was lying on his back, one arm under his head, and the other cast across his stomach. He looked at the ceiling with a worried frown tightening his features, and Buffy swallowed. He was scared. It took a lot to make Spike scared, but the First showing up...even if he hadn’t seen it…it was scaring him. Buffy had to suddenly fight an urge to lay her head on his chest and hug him and promise that everything was going to be all right.

“Principal Wood and I aren’t gonna be a thing,” she said instead. “You get that, right?”

Spike considered before answering. “Why not?”

Buffy gave an exaggerated sigh. “Because turns out I’m attracted only to evil energy, and he’s disappointingly normal.”

Her heart sang at Spike’s low chuckle. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I know you were hoping it would work out.”

“I guess.” Buffy shrugged. “I think I thought I was supposed to like him, and if we actually went on a date, feelings would develop.”

“Well, that makes me feel better for crashing it, then.”

“Don’t even go there, you probably were looking for an excuse all night to crash it,” Buffy said, grinning and slapping his arm.

He smiled. “Evil energy just understands you more, love. Understands who you are, and what you do. It has to, because you’re what threatens its existence."  
  
“Yeah.” Buffy sighed, and was silent for a while, and watched the worried frown on his face continue to deepen. She reached towards his stomach, and laid her hand on his. “Are you gonna be okay?” she asked softly.

He gave a stiff nod without looking at her.

Buffy squeezed his hand before letting it go. “I’m not going to bed for a little while yet,” she said. “I’m gonna just go check on everyone, make sure they’re good, see if there’s any dishes that need to be washed or anything first. I’ll come check on you in a bit, okay?”

The love that she knew he always tried so desperately to hide suddenly appeared in his face, but he put it away again as his eyes flickered to hers. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

Buffy did her rounds about the house, made sure the girls were all asleep, and took the garbage out to the curb. There weren’t many dishes to wash, but she did the few that there were, and pulled a couple bills out of her purse to pin to the grocery list. She knew Xander would be making a shopping trip in the morning. 

Then she made her way back down the basement, and looked towards the cot. 

Spike was in the same position she’d left him in, but his chest was now steadily rising and falling--idiot, didn’t he know he wasn’t supposed to breathe?--and his eyes were shut. His head, pillowed in the crook of his elbow, was turned slightly towards the wall, but she could still see that his face was smoother now that the worry had fallen away.

Buffy watched his breathing for a moment, and then stepped forward, and gently extricated the blanket out from under him. She spread it out over him, and laid her hand lightly on his head. 

And then before she could do anything she might regret, she turned and almost ran back up the stairs. 


	5. Tabula Rasa

The Magic Box was quiet and still, as its inhabitants slumbered away under the effects of a curse still yet to do its intended damage, when the door swung open and a figure in a grey hoodie and aviator sunglasses hurried inside.

Andrew was moving towards the steps so quickly that he didn’t see Buffy lying in front of them, and tripped over her legs, smashing on the ground with a yelp. He lifted his head, staring straight into Dawn’s closed eyes, and yelped again.

“What? What happened?” Warren’s tinny voice sounded in his ear.

“They’re dead,” Andrew said, scrambling up and looking around frantically. “They’re all dead!”

“Who?”

“Everyone! Buffy, and Spike, and Xander and Wil--”

“How do you know Spike’s dead?” came Jonathan’s voice through the earpiece. “Wouldn’t he be dust? You wouldn’t even be able to tell he’d been there!”

“Oh.” Andrew paused for a minute, and then put his hand over Dawn’s chest. “Oh. Yeah. They’re just...they’re just asleep. Not dead.”

“And you didn’t wake them up when you screamed like a little girl?” Warren’s voice carried a quiver of amusement, and Jonathan snickered. 

“Hey, lay off,” Andrew said sulkily. “They looked dead. Why else would they all just be taking a nap during business hours?”

“Must be a spell,” Warren said. “Nice. Makes our job easier, and we don’t lose out on $50.”

“Ohh, don’t you think we should pay for it anyway?” Jonathan asked anxiously. “I mean, we won’t even miss that money.”

There was a pause, and Andrew could almost hear the impatience coming off of Warren. “What part of being evil do you guys not understand? It’s not that we can’t afford it. It’s that we don’t  _ have _ to afford it. We can just  _ take _ it.”

“So, uh,” Andrew said. “What am I looking for again?”

“Naitrojenal powder,” Warren said, still impatiently. “Come on, Andrew, you know this.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s blue, right?” Andrew paused. “Um. I’ve never exactly _ been _ in a magic shop before...I don’t know how they categorize things.”

“Turn on the lights,” Warren sighed. “I can’t see a damn thing.

Andrew looked around until he found the light switch, and pressed it. And then he heard the other two snickering again. “Oh wow,” Jonathan said. “Look at Willow and Xander."  
  
“Look at Anya and the old dude,” Warren chortled. “That is all kinds of ew.”

“I know, right?” Andrew waved at one of the cameras. “It’s pretty gross. I think he’s drooling on her, too.”   
  
Laugher again, and Andrew grinned at the camera. Warren abruptly stopped. “Dude,” he said. “Come on. I told you not to wear those things in there.”   
  
“What, these?” Andrew asked, taking his aviator sunglasses off and sticking them in his pocket. “I was undercover.”  


“Yeah, and I said you didn’t need to be undercover for this. The reason you went in there alone is because you’re the only one none of them would recognize.”

“Well, it didn’t matter anyway, because they won’t even know I was here,” Andrew said smugly. He looked around. “So, um, can you see it now?”

“Check the front counter,” Warren said. “Under the cash register.”

Andrew turned towards it, and gulped. “You mean---where the creepy vampire is?”

“He’s asleep, birdbrain.”

“Yeah, but...what if I wake him up?”

“You won’t. See above, RE: screaming like a little girl? It’s a spell, they’re down for the count. Just hurry up.”

“Okay,” Andrew said doubtfully. He stepped forward, timidly, then poked Spike’s leg before hastily jumping back. The vampire didn’t move, so Andrew grew bolder, and swung both of Spike’s legs up onto the counter. He crouched down and peered through the glass.

“Well?” Warren asked. “Is it there?”

“Yeah, I see some in the back...but I can’t figure out how to open the case.”

“Try opening it from the back?” Jonathan asked, doing nothing to hide the condescending tone in his voice.

“Oh. Right.” Andrew was about to stand up, and froze when he heard a whimper next to him. He turned his head slightly, but it was only Willow, who hummed as she cuddled closer to Xander. Andrew snickered again. “Oh man,” he sighed. “I wish I had a camera.”

“You do. You have six, and they’re all looking at you being a perv right now.”

“ _ I’m  _ not being a perv,” Andrew sniffed, as he moved back around the counter. “You’ll notice I haven’t even done anything to them. And I totally could.”

“Yeah,” Warren said, almost wistfully. “I would totally come down there for that, but whatever cast that spell is probably coming back for them. I don’t wanna get in the way of that, so just hurry it up, would you?”

Andrew slid the panel of the glass container open, then stopped again as he heard Spike shift. He looked up, and all Spike did was put his hands behind his head, but Andrew’s heart was pounding. “You sure they won’t wake up?” he asked nervously. “Maybe I should just pull out now. They’re getting restless.”

“Andrew, I’m still months away from perfecting freeze ray technology,” Warren said, and Andrew rolled his eyes. He knew that. It was all Warren had been saying, this entire week. “And if you want freeze ray guns now, then I need that powder, okay? Just grab it and get out! If they do wake up and catch you, remember, you’re not affiliated with us. They have nothing to link you to us.”

Andrew sighed, but more in exasperation than anything else. If Buffy and her friends woke up and caught him, he didn’t doubt Warren would come and save him. But it would be an uncomfortable time before that. He grabbed the powder, and slammed the cabinet door shut.

“Great, now get out of there-- Seriously, whatever cursed them won’t leave them alone for long, especially if they are getting restless.” 

Andrew took one last look around at the group. It felt wasteful, just walking away from them like this. They should totally capture them--even just one of them, and hold them for ransom. Or look through the notebooks on the counter and see if the Slayer had any weakness. Or even just--

One of Tara’s legs slid off the chair and dangled, and Andrew almost jumped out of his skin. Right. Not a good time. They were waking up. He pulled on his sunglasses again, and headed quickly towards the steps, making sure to sidestep Buffy this time. She looked so different like this. They all did, really, looking like they’d just dropped where they were, marionettes with their strings cut. They all looked so normal and innocent and not at all like a threat. Andrew would never have admitted it, but he felt a pang that Buffy had such a group. Not that he’d ever want to be cursed, but he knew it wasn’t likely he ever would be, even. Warren was too smart to let something enchant them. And they were evil, and undercover. They could never just let their guard down in a public place like this. 

He scoffed, as he reached the door. “So strong and special that nothing can take her even when she’s down. Whatever.” He stopped suddenly, just before he left the building, and went back to turn the light switch off. 

Just because he was evil didn’t mean he couldn’t care about the environment.


	6. Buffy vs. Dracula

Buffy shot up in bed, staring at the vampire forming in front of her. “You are magnificent,” Dracula said, staring not-so-subtly at her neck.

“I bet you say that before you fight all the girls,” Buffy said.

“No, you are different,” he insisted, in that slow, soothing voice of his. “Kindred.”

She blinked. “Kindred? Hardly--”

“Pull your hair back,” he said, and she did. It felt wrong, but trying not to do so just...hurt...

“This isn’t how I--I normally fight,” Buffy said, trying to keep a hold on the situation. He just stood, tilting his head, staring even less subtly now at her neck, and Buffy scoffed. “What, you think you can just waft in here with your music video wind and your hypno--” she caught a look at his eyes. “...eyes.”

He regarded her for another moment, and then said “I have searched the world over for you.” He started walking over to her bed, slowly, and she found she was letting him do it. “I have yearned for you.”

He was going to kill her. Right now. Right there in her bed, and she wasn’t going to do a thing to stop it. It would probably actually be kind of nice--not really the being dead part, but, you know. Being bitten. By him. She could think of worse things.

But before Dracula had managed to sit down, Buffy’s bedroom door slammed open, and an entirely different vampire stomped through and swung what looked vaguely like a crossbow at Dracula’s head. 

Dracula snarled, but he went down, and Spike stood over him, shaking his head at him in irritation. “Glory hound,” he muttered, and then looked up at Buffy. She was still just sitting, glancing at her fallen foe, and Spike suddenly dropped his crossbow and vaulted onto her bed. “Slayer,” he said, grabbing her shoulders. “Hey. Look at me. Stay with me, here.”

She turned her eyes to him, reluctantly, but she was able to do it. And things suddenly got a lot clearer once she started focusing on his face, which was frowning, but looked equal parts annoyed and concerned. She blinked at him, and said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, I see,” he said. “So the walking teen phase gets a free pass, but I come in here and get lectured for my trouble.” Her eyes took on a distant look again, and he growled and snapped his fingers in her face. “None of that, now. It’s barely a hex, just snap out of it.” He shook her shoulders, and she re-focused on him, and then roughly shoved him aside.

“Stop,” she said, irritably.

He did stop, but he looked into her eyes. “You good, then?”

“I’m good, yeah.” She slid off her bed and went to look at Dracula, lying prone on the floor. “So,” she said. “Uh. How do I kill him? Because I’ve seen his movies, and he always comes--”

Dracula’s eyes shot open, and he stood up so quickly that Buffy almost didn’t even see him do it. Buffy threw herself at him as Spike looked wildly around for his fallen crossbow, but Dracula disappeared in a cloud of mist, and turned into a wolf. He headed for the window, and crashed through it, leaping to the ground and loping away. 

“Crap!” Buffy muttered. She flew to the window and looked out, and then frantically began pulling on a pair of overturned boots lying around on the floor. “If you didn’t wake my mom up when you came in, that definitely did.”  
  
Spike gripped the crossbow and watched her, frowning. “What the hell are you--”

“I’m going after him, what’s it look like I’m doing?” Buffy eyed the ground from her window, and then stepped out and jumped.

Spike followed, and took off running after her. Buffy spared only a second to glance over her shoulder at him. “Well, you don’t have to come!”

“Not one for doing a half-assed job, Slayer! I’m in this all the way, now!”  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, and kept the wolf just in her line of vision. She expected that he’d lead her to a mansion, because, hello, Dracula, but instead he just turned into Restfield cemetery. Where she’d met him the previous night. 

She caught up with him, and he turned to stare at her, before turning back into a vampire. He glowered at her. “You should have let me go,” he said. “We are not yet meant to fight.”

Spike came up beside her. “Yeah, the problem with this Slayer is that she likes to think she’s the one making the rules. You know she doesn’t even take orders from a Watcher any more?”

Dracula turned his eyes to Spike, but only for a second, before training his eyes back on Buffy, and silently stalking her in circles. 

Buffy watched him, holding a stake in her hand. “So that’s it?” she asked. “You were all ready to kill me a second ago, and now you’re seriously not gonna fight? What, did you forget to wear your lucky socks or something?”

“Put the stake down,” he said calmly. 

Buffy hesitated, but found she didn’t want to. So that was something, anyway. “You know,” she said. “I really think the thrall has gone out of our relationship.”

He gave a long chuckle, honey flowing over his tone. “You cannot resist me.”

“Have you not been paying attention? I’m resist-o girl, it’s who I am.”

He stopped in front of her, and stared deep into her eyes. “You think you know,” he murmured. “What you are. What's to come. You haven’t even begun.”

“Okay.” Buffy turned, and snatched the crossbow out of Spike’s hands. “I’m super done here.” She fired the crossbow at Dracula, and managed to hit his stomach as he tried barrelling out of the way. She turned and saw Spike hoist himself up onto a sarcophagus, crossing his legs and watching her with interest. “Thought you were in this all the way!” she said.

He shrugged, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a cigarette. “I am. Minute you go down, I’ll step in. That’s my weapon you’re holding, innit?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, and turned back to Dracula. He wasn’t disappearing and being mysterious anymore--Buffy couldn’t have said for sure, but she thought that her unimpressed demeanor was probably not putting Dracula in the best of moods. Which was fine by her, since he actually began to fight her properly, like the vampire he was.

It lasted several minutes, and he did take to disappearing at times, but Buffy was able to stake him just when she saw him mist appearing. He looked startled...more startled than they usually did. Buffy guessed that he’d had an entirely different idea for how this evening would go. She watched him dust, crossed her arms, and waited. 

Spike slid off the tomb and wandered over to her. “You honestly think he’ll come back?”

Buffy held up a finger, and inwardly crowed gleefully as she saw Dracula’s mist reforming. She staked him again, and waited once more. “I’m right here,” she taunted, when she saw him coming back for a third time.

The mist disappeared, and this time did not reform. Buffy grinned, and tossed the crossbow to Spike. “Told ya.” He caught it, looking at her almost in wonder, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“You just killed Dracula.” He started chuckling, a long, slow chuckle. “Bloody hell, pet, always knew you were something, but…”

“I didn’t actually kill him.”   


“Defeated him, then. Knocked him off his white marble pedestal. That’s gonna eat away at him for a good long while.”

Buffy looked back where Dracula had been, as if expecting to see him reappear. “How’d you know he was here?” she asked suddenly. “Or--there. In my bedroom.”

“Your tin soldier came round digging up information on him. I guessed he’d go after you.”

“Oh.” Both were silent, until Buffy pressed, “So you, what, decided I needed rescuing?”

Spike choked on his cigarette, and immediately dropped it, stomping it out with his boot more violently than was probably necessary. “No,” he said, in a much calmer voice than his actions suggested. “I just knew your boy wouldn’t get to you in time...and I thought I wouldn’t mind facing the Count again. He and I were old rivals, you know. Just getting in my closure, same as you’ve done, I’m sure.”

“Spike, if I were in this for closure, you’d have been dead a long time ago.”

He regarded her for a moment, then grinned unexpectedly. “Yeah. Same to you, Summers.”

She smirked, and began walking away. 

“I didn’t do it for you!” he called after her. “Think I’d have given a bleeding thought to it if he’d turned you?”

“You know you would have,” she called back tauntingly, without looking at him. “A vampire who’s also a Slayer? You’d have had a field day, Spike. And you know it would have been your last.”

She didn’t know why she felt like teasing him right then, but she smirked again in triumph as she heard him cursing to himself. Dracula was right, turned out there was a bit of darkness to be found in her after all.


	7. Enemies

Giles glanced up as Buffy burst through the library doors. “Buffy,” he said. “I think we should discuss…” he paused when he saw she was paying no attention to him, instead looking around for her jacket, which she ended up finding in his office. “Buffy?” he asked, following her. “Where are you going?”   
  
“To see Angel,” Buffy said. She looked up at Giles with a pained expression. “I know, I know we have more important stuff happening, I just...I think Faith is up to something, with him, maybe, and I just want to make sure--”

She was cut off by a sound coming from the stairs, and both she and Giles quickly hurried out of the office. A man, with a dark face and dark robes covering almost every inch of him, was glowering at them. Buffy wasted no time in grabbing a sword and marching towards him, but Giles put his arm out to stop her. “Buffy, wait,” he said. “I know him.”

Buffy lowered her arm and looked at him in disbelief. “You know him? From what, because I’m guessing he’s not part of the Sunnydale High faculty.”

“Rupert Giles,” the figure said. “You may recall that I still have a debt to repay you.”

“Yes,” Giles nodded, still holding his arm in front of Buffy. He was aware she was looking at him incredulously, but she stayed silent.

“The time has come for me to pay it in full,” the man said. “Your mayor has commissioned me to bring harm upon one of your associates.”

Giles swallowed. “Who?”

“The vampire with a soul. The one you call Angel. He has asked me to remove it.”

“Remove Angel’s soul?” Buffy said, and Giles felt her almost wilt against him. “You can’t, you--why would the mayor even want that?”   
  
“Hush, Buffy,” Giles murmured, squeezing her arm. He spoke to the shaman again, and asked, “When does he want it to happen?”

“Tonight,” the shaman replied.

Buffy now was gripping Giles’ arm with both hands, but she stood up straighter. “No,” he said calmly. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Not going to let what happen?” Angel asked, coming in through the doors.   
  
“Angel?” Buffy asked. “What are you doing here?” 

Angel looked uncomfortable, but he said, “I just...you said you were coming by. Last night. I wanted to make sure you were all right.” He noticed the shaman and frowned suspiciously. “What’s going on here?”

“The mayor is trying to have your soul removed,” Giles said. “Fortunately, I know a man on the inside.”

“I told him I cannot do it alone,” the shaman said. “That the victim will need to be doused in sacrificial blood before I can perform my ritual. This, however, was a falsehood.”

Giles smiled at him. “I appreciate it, my friend,” he said. “I truly do.” He looked at Buffy, then at Angel. “So. How should we proceed, with this information?”

Buffy shifted. “It’ll be Faith,” she said softly. “Who does the dousing.”

“Faith?” Angel asked. “What makes you so sure?”

“Well she tried before, didn’t she?” Buffy looked up at Angel. “Tried to get you to lose it?”

Angel looked at her for a moment, and then sorrow passed through his eyes. “You were there,” he said softly. “You saw...Buffy, nothing happened, I promise. I wouldn’t let her kiss me, let alone try...anything else.”

“But it’ll be her,” Buffy said, just as softly. “She’s still working for the mayor.” She blinked suddenly and glanced down.

Angel looked at Giles. “If that’s true,” he said slowly. “Then I think I need to play along.”

“Play along?” Giles repeated.

Angel gave a slow nod. “Let her think it worked. Play Angelus, let her tell me the mayor’s plan or whatever it is they’re doing.”

Giles watched him for a long time, and then turned to his Slayer. “Buffy?”

She started, and looked up. Tears were shining in her eyes, but her face was set very determinedly. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I agree.” She looked anxiously at Angel. “But are you sure you...want to do that? Play evil? I mean what if they make you--”

“I can pull out at any time,” he said. “We’re just looking for information, that’s all.” He stepped forward, taking her chin in his hand, and then briefly kissed her. “I’ll be all right, Buffy.” She didn’t say anything, and he took a step back. “I will.”  
  
“But I’ll have to watch,” she said in a low voice. 

There was silence for a long time, and Buffy was the first one to break it. She took a breath, and looked at Giles, giving a firm nod. “Yeah. It’s a good plan, even if it doesn’t work. But it...it probably will. Faith’s not dumb, but she likes people listening to her talk.”

Giles gave her a brief smile and nodded, turning back to the shaman. “Then, if you don’t mind, will you make it look as if you did what was asked?”

The shaman nodded. “The girl will be convinced.” Then with no other ceremony, he faded away, and silence again reigned. 

Angel cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “I’d better go, then. If Faith’s coming--” he cleared his throat again, and looked at Buffy awkwardly. 

“I already know,” she said. “What you’ll have to do...and with her…”

“You’re still my girl, Buffy,” he said. “Only one I care about, you know that, right?”

Buffy swallowed. “Just don’t hold back,” she said. “Not with me, not with her.” And she ran up the stairs, and buried herself among the Stacks.


	8. Normal Again

Willow barged into Spike’s crypt to see him very aggressively sucking at a bottle of whiskey. “Hey,” she snapped, and then softened her tone. “Hey. Um. Buffy needs you.”

Spike tore his eyes from the TV to spare her only a brief glance before looking back. “Does she now. Bitch might decide which lane she’s driving in once in a while. Tells me to get out of her life, then comes crawling back for help.” He turned to Willow again, looking her up and down, and then said, “Though sending someone else to get down on their knees is new for her.”

“She’s not asking for you,” Willow said anxiously, deciding not to be offended or confused by anything the vampire was saying. “She’s--she didn’t exactly drink the antidote.”

Spike paused, the bottle halfway to his lips, and raised an eyebrow at her. “Well what the bleeding hell has she been doing all day? It’s nearly sunset, meaning we captured that demon just shy of 24 hours ago!”

“I know,” Willow said, in exasperation. “She--it took a long time to make, okay? And then she tossed it out when we weren’t looking--and  _ you  _ were supposed to monitor her by the way so I kinda really want to blame you for this--and then she went really psycho before she agreed to take the antidote again.” Willow gave another exasperated sigh. “Only it took a long time to make again, and now she’s--she’s out of it. Not crazy, really, because she’s just sitting on her bed and not saying anything.” Willow swallowed.

Spike gripped his bottle so hard Willow thought it might shatter. “So what do you need me for?”

Willow looked uncomfortable. “She responds to you. I don’t know why, but she does.”

Spike regarded her for a very long time, his chest heaving, and his look dark, until his features softened and he breathed, “You want me to make her drink it?”

“I want you to try,” Willow said. “Because we all have, and she’s not...not listening. It’s similar to when Glory took Dawn...only I don’t want to go in her mind this time because it’s already on major overload, I think.”

Spike regarded her for another moment, then carefully set the bottle down and began slowly pulling his duster on. “Don’t think she wants to see me,” he finally said sharply. 

Willow bit her lip and didn’t say anything. She watched him walk out of the crypt, and she followed. Spike eyed the fading sun, and began almost jumping from shadow to shadow, which at any other time Willow might have found comical if she weren’t so worried. 

When Spike arrived at the house, he was suddenly all business. He leapt up the stairs two at a time, and Willow had to run to keep up with him. His coat swished around him as he strode down the hall, turning into Buffy’s bedroom. 

But apparently he’d stopped just as he got inside, as Willow found out when she bumped in to him. He took no notice of her, though, and just looked at the bed. 

Buffy was lying under the covers, on her side, still wearing the clothes she’d had on all of today...and all of yesterday too. Her eyes were open, and Dawn was stroking her hair, while Xander crouched beside her and was holding her hand. 

Tara looked at the newcomers in the room, and walked over to Spike, pressing a mug into his hands without a word. Xander and Dawn looked up at them as well, and silently backed up. Willow briefly closed her eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn’t been a fun conversation to decide to bring Spike in on this, and even Willow herself wasn’t entirely in love with the idea of some vampire getting through to Buffy when her dearest friends and family couldn’t. But maybe it was a demon thing, and that was what was needed to wake the Slayer up. 

Regardless, they were all on board with it now, and they all watched Spike without a word of protest. 

Spike had drastically changed once they’d all backed away. His shoulders fell, slightly, and his mouth lost the hard line it had been wearing. He sat on the edge of the bed, drawing one leg up under him, and carefully placed the mug on the side table. “Buffy,” he whispered, reaching out, and stroking her cheek. “Can you hear me, love?”

Buffy didn’t answer, and Willow heard herself make a sigh of disappointment. But Spike clearly was not to be deterred. He leaned over, and helped Buffy sit up. She was limp, and her head lolled to one side, but he awkwardly got his arm under her, supporting her head in his elbow. “Come on, now,” Spike said, in a firmer tone. “You wanted this, pet, and I didn’t risk  _ my _ perfectly intact grey matter just to have you wig out on us now. So you’re gonna drink this, and if you want me gone, I’m afraid I’m not goin’ anywhere until you’ve done so.”

He reached for the mug with his free hand, and held it up to her lips. She still didn’t move, and he gave an exasperated sigh. “What do you think you are, a sodding duchess?” he asked. “Fine, but I can’t swallow for you too, you know.” He shoved the rim of the cup between her lips, and tilted. 

And Buffy’s friends let out a collective gasp as she sputtered on the drink. “That’s it,” Spike murmured soothingly, taking the mug away. “That’s right, kitten.”

Buffy blinked, and looked up at him. And then she choked. “Tastes…” she said. “Tastes like...motor oil…” 

“Have experience with that, do we, Slayer?” Spike asked. He held the mug towards her lips again. “Keep going, all right? It’s not much, and you’re a bloody superhero. You can do this.”

Buffy grimaced, but swallowed again. Then she took the mug in her hands, and took another tiny sip. 

Spike held his free arm loosely around her waist, and when she began supporting her own weight, he drew her close to him, so her head was resting on his chest. 

“Hold on,” Xander said. “If he thinks he can start getting frisky with her--”

“Xander,” Willow chided softly. “She’s still delirious. She probably doesn’t even know he’s here.”

As if to prove that point, Buffy leaned into Spike without protest, and took another sip. She coughed again, and shook her head. “I can’t…” she whimpered. “It’s so bad…”

“Well, now you know how I felt when all you brought me was pig’s blood,” Spike said. He stroked her hair with the hand cradling her head to him. “Just a little bit more, darling, I promise.”

Buffy drew a resigned sigh, and sipped again. Spike began humming, very quietly, a low sound in his throat that appeared to be calming the girl in his lap. She drank the rest down, and let her head sink lower as she sighed again. Spike caught the cup as it fell from her fingers, and replaced it on the table. 

“There we are then,” Spike said in a very soft voice. He kissed the top of her head. “That’s my girl.”

Buffy hummed, sadly, and seemed in no hurry to leave the sanctuary of his arms wrapped around her. “I tried to kill them,” she whimpered.

Spike’s head snapped around to look at Willow, but he didn’t wait for her to confirm anything. He turned back, and said quietly, “Well, I’ve tried to kill you. It’s how we show affection. Neither of us succeeded.”

Buffy yawned into his chest. “Spike?” 

Spike froze, and Willow wondered if Buffy really was more lucid than they’d suspected. Or maybe the antidote was starting to work.

“Yeah?” Spike breathed. 

Buffy didn’t answer, and hummed again as she closed her eyes. Spike sat very still, his fingers lightly stroking her hair, until Buffy finally murmured sleepily, “You said...to give up the hero…”

“Forget what I said,” he replied, quickly. “Forget it, pet. I...you’re stronger than even I give you credit for. You’re better than I could ever perceive. Don’t listen to me.”

Buffy hummed once more, faintly, and then went quiet in Spike’s arms. He hesitated, watching until she fell asleep, and then laid her back against her pillow, gently, smoothing her covers up and brushing a lock of hair out of her face. 

Then he froze again, and suddenly turned to face the group watching him. And his face instantly turned back into a scowl, and he snapped, “Well, what did you all expect? You’re the ones who wanted me to come fix your broken savior, what was I supposed to do?” 

And in a flurry of black leather, he was gone.

  
  



	9. Wild at Heart

Something was bothering her. Oz was quiet, he was always quiet, always reserved, never said more than he had to, but Buffy couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something. It wasn’t a good feeling, either. For someone who never shared much of anything, he certainly got shifty when there was something he specifically didn’t want to share.

“Oz?” Buffy asked gently. “Oz, are you okay? If it’s possible you seem more monosyllabic than usual.”

He looked at her, giving a soft smile. “I’m okay,” he said. “Thanks.”  
  
But he wasn’t. He wasn’t, and she could tell from the wistfulness in his smile, the way he was looking at her like there were volumes sitting behind his lips, if only he could get them to open and spill out. 

But she couldn’t remember a time that Oz hadn’t been completely forthright, with all of them, and he was one of the best men Buffy had ever known. She couldn’t doubt him based on intuition alone. She turned to leave again, but she walked very slowly, just in case he changed his mind before she’d gone out of sight.

“Well,” she finally said. “Good. Willow was worried that you were hiding something from her, so she’ll be happy to here everything is boring and basic in the land of Oz.” She paused, realizing what she’d referenced, and then nodded. “No, yeah, I stand by what I said.”

She turned to give him a very pointed look, and he crumbled. She saw it in his face, first, and then he said quickly, “Buffy?” as if trying to catch her before she left. As if she wasn’t standing and waiting for him to say her name.

Buffy descended back down the stairs, and moved to again stand in front of him. She crossed her arms, and leaned against the cage. “Yes?”

Oz breathed in a sigh through his nose, and leaned against the cage as well, clasping his hands behind his neck. “You remember Veruca?”

No. No no no, Oz was NOT one to cheat on his girlfriend. Especially with someone so...obvious. If Oz was into that kind of thing he’d never have been dating Willow in the first place. 

“Where is this going?” Buffy asked sharply, more sharply than she intended to, judging by Oz’s flinch. 

“She’s a werewolf,” Oz said, closing his eyes.

Oh. Was that all? 

Wait a second. How did he know that?

Wait another second. He’d just told her he didn’t know anything about another wolf. And he’d probably said the same to Willow.

Buffy was quiet for so long that Oz opened his eyes again and looked at her. And Buffy looked up at him, and said heatedly, “And you weren’t going to tell me?” 

“I was handling it,” Oz whispered. “I didn’t...I don’t want Willow knowing...she’ll get the wrong idea, you know?”

“And what exactly is the wrong idea?”

“I woke up with her,” Oz said, a line appearing on his forehead. “This morning...that’s when I knew. And she’s into it, she’s been waiting for this, and I know Willow is...don’t laugh but I think Willow is a little bit insecure about Veruca anyway.”

“Why would I laugh?” Buffy asked, as sarcastically as she could.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Oz said softly. 

“Who, Willow or Veruca?”

“Both. I mean--” Oz sighed. “Veruca’s a person, too. And she’s got a lot of messed up ideas about this wolf thing. And I really do like her band, and--” Oz gave Buffy a tortured look. “She’s just like me, Buffy...I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“And Willow?” Buffy asked coldly. “You’re just leaving her in the dark? You of all people should know how it is to be cheated on, even if the other party didn’t mean it and feels guilty.”

“I know,” Oz said. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and stayed that way for a long while. “I’m handling it,” he finally said again. “Please, just...don’t tell her okay? I’ll figure this out.”

Buffy shook her head, slowly. “Sorry, Oz. You’re my friend and I will whatever I can for you, but Willow is my _ best _ friend, and I’m not protecting you for her. So you and I are going to march up to her right now, and tell her everything, and then we are going to find Veruca before sunset.” Oz shifted uncomfortably, but before he could protest, Buffy added, “And there will be no arguing, because I am the Slayer, and what I say goes. I’m not letting another demon break up our friend group, yours or anyone else’s.”


	10. The Harvest

“One thing’s for sure,” Xander said. “Nothing’s ever gonna be the same.”

Willow looked over at him, watching his face intently. But he wasn’t doing anything. And actually, that was sort of the problem. He wasn’t doing _ anything _ . No quips or one-liners, no questions or demands about what had just happened and was this going to be normal for them. Willow knew Xander pretty well, but him being just so...quiet was new. 

Not totally new. She’d seen it once or twice before. The perfect stillness as he tried not to betray anything. The calm sadness in his voice. The stuff neither Giles nor Buffy seemed to be picking up on.

“Well,” Buffy said. “Thanks for the help, guys, really. I hate to bail, but I’ve gotta get back before Mom finds out I broke out. Only so much Mom-freakage I can handle in one evening.”

“Yes, we should all be getting home,” Giles said. “Unfortunately vampire activity will be as rampant as ever, so everyone watch your backs tonight.”

The group walked silently out of the Bronze, and Willow watched as Giles and Buffy took off in opposite directions. Then she turned to Xander, who was looking down, twisting the ring on his finger. 

“You wanna sleep over at my house?” Willow asked brightly. “My dad rented _ Die Hard _ .”

Xander gave a faint smile. “That’s a Christmas movie.”

“Well if the stores start celebrating early I don’t see why we can’t,” Willow said stoutly. “You in?”

Xander looked up at her gratefully, and nodded. “Yeah. Give me an hour. I’ll bring the popcorn.” 

Willow grinned, which fell as he turned away. She raced home, and tidied her room as much as she thought Xander warranted--which usually wasn’t very much, to be honest. She and Xander had no shame. But tonight felt different, and she raided the kitchen for all the chips and cookies and soda there was to be found. 

Xander rapped lightly on her bedroom door, the one that led outside, and Willow smiled as she opened it. “Why didn’t you come in through the front door?” she asked. 

“I thought your mom didn’t let you have boys in your room?”

Willow grinned, shoving him. “Xander Harris, you know perfectly well that you have never counted as a boy in my mother’s eyes.”

“I guess.” Xander shrugged, and smiled, tossing his duffel bag into a corner of Willow’s bedroom. “I just heard the recent lecture about it. Thought it might have been about me.”

“No, my mom clearly doesn’t think she has to worry about you.” Willow turned away and winced, hoping that didn’t sound as desperate to him as it had to her. “So, hey, popcorn?” 

Xander held up a package, and Willow took it and ran to the kitchen to put it in the microwave. She returned to find Xander setting the room up, dragging the TV to the floor so they could sprawl on the ground. He’d pulled all the blankets off her bed as well, and gotten his own sleeping bag set up. 

Willow tried to hide the pang in her heart. Tonight was for Xander. And she needed to be his dutiful childhood best friend and behave the way he was relying on her to behave. She couldn’t read too much into the fact that he was about to spend the night on her floor. He’d done it countless times before. 

“All right,” Xander said, slipping the movie in and rubbing his hands. “Christmas in September, here we go.”

Willow continued watching him, watched him more than the movie, in fact. It wasn’t a new movie, to either of them, and Willow wondered if that was a good thing or a bad one. She’d suggested it as a comfort thing, but now she wondered if they should have watched a Bollywood flick that they could have laughed at instead. Maybe a violent movie that had been watched to pieces wasn’t really the ticket here. But Xander seemed pretty normal, for a while, anyway. He didn’t say anything, didn’t mimic some of his favorite lines like he usually did, but he seemed engrossed anyway. He ate his popcorn, tossing bits at her when she wasn’t looking, and she responded by getting smudges of chocolate on his face. 

By the time the movie was nearing its end, they were sitting close, with Xander’s head almost leaning on her shoulder. They were watching the screen motionlessly, and Willow had forgotten to check in on Xander, until she heard him sniffling.

She instantly paused the movie, and turned to him. “Xander,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

He covered his face with his hands, and let himself fall forward until his forehead was touching her knee. “He’s dead, Will,” he whispered. “I didn’t...when he was a vampire I kinda didn’t think of him as dead, because he was still right there. But he is, he’s--”

Willow began patting his head. “I know,” she said. “I know. It’s awful.”

“And I had to stake him,” Xander gasped. He made a noise that sounded suppressed, and Willow knew he was trying to disguise his sobs, but his entire frame was shaking now. 

“It’s okay, Xander,” Willow said. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Xander sat shaking in her lap for several minutes, and he couldn’t disguise all of the sobs that were leaking out of him. Willow ran her fingers through his hair, and waited until he was calm enough to roll over and look up at her, tears still staining his cheeks.

“Buffy,” he said, and gulped. “Buffy was sympathetic, because I really wigged out when we first saw Vampire Jesse. But she...she kinda doesn’t get it, you know?”

“Well.” Willow shrugged. “He didn’t exactly have time to be her friend.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Xander blew his nose on his sleeve, which Willow wrinkled her nose at just to see if it would make him smile. It didn’t. “I mean, she was just like, we need to move on. It’s tragic, but we shrug and get over it. Clearly she hasn’t lost anyone to those...monsters.”

Willow hesitated. “Xander...she sees these things all the time. She probably watches people die, all the time.” Xander looked skeptical, and Willow said, “And she did lose someone. You know Giles is called her Watcher? He told me all Slayers have to have one. And that Buffy had one before him who...died, I guess. By a vampire.”

“Then why doesn’t this bother her?” Xander moaned.

“I think…” Willow paused, trying to puzzle it out. “I think...she can’t  _ let _ it bother her. If she starts thinking about everyone she hasn’t saved, it’ll get to her. It’s like doctors, you know? They operate on people all the time, and lose some of them. They can’t let it get to them, though, or it might stop them from saving someone else.”

Xander’s breathing steadied as he listened to her. He seemed to consider it. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “You don’t think it’s like--vampires are just a part of life for her? That they don’t bother her because they’re the ones who make sure she has a job?” 

“I’m sure that’s not it,” Willow said. “I mean, customer service people hate servicing customers, don’t they? Even though the customers are literally their whole job?” 

Xander paused, finally giving a weak smile. “I guess.”

“Besides, I don’t think she really got a choice in her job,” Willow said. “It kinda makes you feel bad for her.”

“Yeah.” Xander swallowed. “But she has us now. We’ll help her, and we’re choosing to do it.”

“Exactly.” Willow nodded firmly. “We’ll help save some of those people she might have lost.”

“And all the vampires had better not cross me,” Xander said darkly. “Because Buffy might be the Slayer, but any that I meet are gonna wish they’d stayed away.”


	11. Once More With Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who saw my glaring continuity error in this chapter, it has been fixed 😊

Everything was exploding. Spike’s head burst like a bloody champagne bottle, and now it felt so light and fuzzy that he couldn’t be certain he wasn’t levitating off the ground, somehow. But he didn’t stop kissing her, he grabbed her shoulder and held on for dear life, and continued reaching, continued wrapping his tongue around hers, continued loving and loving and loving…

When she broke away he honestly couldn’t have said how long it had been. His eyes lazily flickered open, and he panted as he gazed at her. “Buffy…” he said, his voice choked with wonder.

She snapped her mouth shut, and looked at him, not in fear, or love, or regret, and that was somewhat reassuring. She was looking at him...almost gratefully, and he wanted to say more, wanted to kiss her again, and more than anything else wanted to ask what the bleeding hell she was playing at, but none of those responses made it to his lips. Lips which were still singing, though not with actual words anymore, fortunately. 

And then the dream ended, as it always was going to, and Buffy’s entourage came tumbling out of the Bronze. It was eerily reminiscent of the night Buffy had come back to life, but this time Spike didn’t think he could just walk away and leave them all to it. This time Buffy had made it clear, in actions if not in words, that she needed him to stick around. 

“Buffy!” Willow cried. There were tears welling up in her big eyes again. “Oh, Buffy, it’s not...it isn’t true, is it?” Her face crumpled. “You weren’t really in Heaven, were you?”

“Of course she wasn’t,” Xander said, in a firm tone that was clearly trying to be reassuring. “You were just trying to unnerve the demon, right? A little reverse psychology, letting him think you didn’t care if you died?”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dawn demanded. “You could have told  _ me _ , Buffy, you didn’t have to worry about making me feel guilty, when I didn’t even know about the spell!”

Giles was the first to reach her, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, my dear girl,” he sighed. “I can’t express how sorry I am.”  
  
“Did you see angels?” Anya asked eagerly. “Did you see all your ancestors, or past Slayers or something? I promised Xander I’d stop asking about you being in Hell, but being in Heaven couldn’t have been too traumatic, right?”

“I’ll...I’ll fix this,” Willow said desperately. “I can...um...I can cast a spell that…”

“Willow,” Tara snapped. “Not now.”

“This is very exciting,” Anya said. “I’ve met hundreds who broke out of a Hell dimension, but I’ve never heard of anyone being resurrected who was in a Heavenly one before!”

“I mean come on, Buff, you were the one who thanked us for pulling you out of Hell!” Xander protested. He cleared his throat, his voice starting to waver. “Right?”

Spike could see her stiffening up. She’d flinched under Giles’ touch, and with every word thrown at her, he could see her hugging herself tighter and tighter. Willow took a step closer and Buffy instinctively backed up, right into Spike. 

He hadn’t expected that, and cursed himself for being another wall caging her in, until he realized that she hadn’t moved, and was in fact almost pressing herself against his chest. He laid his hand on the small of her back, and she definitely relaxed under it, if only slightly. 

And then she pushed herself away from him, and stood up very straight, lifting her chin and balling her hands into fists at her sides. 

“I was in Heaven,” she said shortly. “Or something that felt like it. And I was happy there. But now I’m here, and me telling you and making you feel sorry for me wasn’t going to change that. So there really is nothing more to be said.” And then she turned to Spike, and if she’d just announced that the moon was the sun, he couldn’t have been more surprised by what came out of her mouth next. “Will you take me home?” she asked quietly. 

He tried to speak, found he couldn’t, so just shut his mouth and gave a quick nod. He put his hands on Buffy’s shoulders and guided her away from the group, not daring to make eye contact with anyone else, though he could feel all their eyes on him. 

“Did you know?” Giles asked suddenly, once they’d almost rounded the corner. 

Spike and Buffy tensed at the same instant. There couldn’t have been doubt in anybody’s mind who Giles was addressing. Spike slowly turned back around, and Buffy did the same.

“What?” Spike asked in a heated whisper, though he knew the jig was already up. 

He looked up and met Giles’ gaze, which was a steely frown at the moment, even though Spike knew he’d done nothing wrong. Wasn’t  _ his _ fault if Buffy chose to make him her confidante. He’d assumed she was in a mystical Hell dimension just like everybody else until she’d said otherwise.

“Did,” Giles said calmly. “You know? Did she tell you?” 

Spike tilted his head and regarded him, clenching his jaw as the anger inside him began bubbling out. “Well,” he snapped. “Easier to tell someone you loathe than someone you love, innit? That you were the happiest you’ve ever been and the people you trusted took that away from you?”

Willow let out a sob and fell to the ground, and everyone else stood frozen, staring down. Spike turned back to Buffy, who was looking away. Spike almost regretted saying what he did, but Buffy didn’t seem like she was going to argue, so Spike just took her shoulders and led her away again. 

He let his hands slip when the others couldn’t see them anymore, and to his surprise, she started heading towards the nearest cemetery. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t dare question anything; the kiss was still buzzing in his brain and on his tongue, but he couldn’t ask her about it now. 

Buffy hadn’t made it far inside the cemetery when she suddenly grabbed her chest, dropped to her knees, and crumpled onto the grass. 

Spike dropped in alarm beside her. “Slayer! What on--” And then he stopped, because he could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh, pet…” He sighed, and sat back on his heels. He ran his hand over his head, and watched her. 

She was silent, completely silent, but the tears didn’t stop coming. They ran in endless rivers, like she was a sodding anime character, but it took longer than it should have for Spike to realize what being silent meant. 

“Hey.” He grabbed her arm, and pulled her into a sitting position, then took her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Breathe, Buffy.”

She looked at him with a shaking chin, and big wet eyes, and pursed lips that were starting to turn just a shade blue. “Buffy,” he said warningly, and when she still made no move, he sighed, rolling his eyes up to the heavens. “Yes, wonderful,” he muttered. “Because really all I needed to make this night better was a splitting migraine.” He slipped into his vampire face, braced himself for the pain, and delivered a left hook across her jaw. 

Her breath came out in a burst, and she gasped at him, anger flashing in her eyes. And he clapped his hand to his forehead...and felt nothing. A surge of…something went through him, but he couldn’t tell if it was panic or euphoria. But he screamed anyway, a belated one, but she didn’t seem to notice. She scrambled to her feet and swung at his shoulder, missing only because he leapt up as well. She got his stomach, however, and he staggered backwards, recovering just in time to block her next punch aimed at his jaw. He hit hers again, giving another scream for show, and she glared at him, before grabbing his arm and the collar of his jacket, and flung him across the cemetery. 

He lay where he was, waiting to see if she’d come and find him. A thousand questions began surging through his brain, but he tried to tamper them down. Had the chip died? Was it just a glitch? He had no intention of lying to her, but he didn’t want this to worry her, either. He would just try and find out what had happened, and then...and then…

But this was not something to be solved right now. She did come looking for him, and he glanced at her curiously, his face shifting back into human features, and she sighed and laid down next to him, propping her knees up and putting her hands behind her head so she could stare at the stars.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“No worries, love.”

“Not just for that.” Buffy paused. “For earlier. When you...when you stopped me.”

Spike propped himself up on his elbows, and looked at her. “That something I’m gonna have to worry about happening again in the future?”

She pinched her lips together and shook her head. “No. Suicidal Buffy...well, committed suicide, probably. She’s gone now.”

Spike nodded, and looked up at the sky, still leaning on his elbows. Could he ask her now? Could he mention something she so far had failed to bring up? He took a breath, and ventured, “Buffy--”

She hastily stood up. “I’m going to tell you something,” she said quickly. “And you’re just going to shut up and listen to it and not read into it or anything because I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. I...I was thinking about you. When I was dancing, and about to go up in flames. I kept wondering if you’d bust in and save me.” She looked away, and said, “It’s silly, especially when I’m always the one doing the rescuing. And you’re the one who said you hoped I’d burn.”

“Buffy, you know I didn’t--”

“I told you to shut up,” she said crisply. “But somewhere in me I guess was a little girl who hoped the man who loved her would come and save her. That if he cared about her enough to want her to live, he wouldn’t let her die. And feminists everywhere are rage-crying because of my actions, and I really, really can’t believe I’m admitting this to you, especially when the feeling is anything but mutual.” She sighed, and said, “But you did, save me, and I...it’s enough, Spike. I’ll go on living. I won’t like it, but that was the deal I made with myself. That if you saved me, I wouldn’t try again…” she cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to stop breathing just now. That wasn’t a suicide attempt.”

“I know,” Spike said softly, forgetting again that she’d told him to shut up. 

She didn’t remind him. “And when I kissed you…”  
  
“Buffy you don’t have to--”   
  
“When I kissed you,” she repeated. “That was selfish, and that was me hurting, and hoping again you could just take my pain away.” She gave him a sharp look. “Because you do. Being with you does that. And I hate you so much for that.”

He didn’t know what to do with any of this information. He just swallowed, and said, “Then go on hating me.”

“I will,” she said defensively. “This changes nothing, Spike.”

He let his elbows out from under him, and his head fell back against the grass. He wanted to be angry with her, but there wasn’t any anger left. “I know,” he said again. “Didn’t think it would.”

“Spike,” she said, and waited until he looked at her again before she continued. “This changes  _ nothing _ . Which means I’m probably going to keep coming by and hanging out patrolling and drinking with you. Well--probably not so much with the drinking.”

He opened his mouth, and shut it again. “You are?” was the brilliant response he came up with.  
  
“Unless you don’t want me to,” she said evenly, fixing him with a pointed glare. “Unless you want me to stay away because I don’t reciprocate your feelings.”

He knew that damned song would come back to haunt him. He shook his head. “I’d never want that, Buffy. You know that.”

“Good.” Buffy paused, and then looked at her hands, and twisted them. “Thanks for getting me out of there. I can make it home by myself.” She began striding away. “See you tomorrow, Spike.”

And Spike just lay there, blinking in the grass, wondering what kind of sick, twisted Powers That Be had allowed him to take Buffy’s place in Heaven.


	12. Graduation Day Part 2

“Buffy.”

It was very far away, and it was a voice she’d never heard before. Or maybe she had? At the moment she was just having trouble deciding if it was a male or a female voice.

“Buffy!” 

Louder now, but there was still so much darkness surrounding her, that it didn’t really seem to matter. The voice echoed around her, and then suddenly went quiet, before showing up again, sounding like it was directly behind her. 

“Buffy. You can’t stay here.”

There was a flash of light, and Buffy was now walking, like she’d parted the Red Sea, only the sides of the sea were covered in moving pictures, glimpses of people and events she recognized. She saw her first vampires, she saw Angel kissing her in his bed, she saw Jonathan handing her a sparkly little umbrella.

There was a howling wind, and Buffy’s hair whipped about her face, but she continued walking, until the sides of the sea widened, and created a circle in the ground. A girl was standing there, in a pink crop top and wrap skirt, which looked strangely oriental considering her pale face and honey-colored hair piled on top of her head.

“I know you,” Buffy said.

The wind quieted down as the girl smiled, but the pictures still swirled by on the water surrounding them. “Not yet,” she said. 

“Am I dead?” Buffy asked.

The girl’s smile faded. “Not yet.”

Buffy looked around at the pictures. “So what is this, my future?”

“You have to wake up, Buffy,” the girl said. Her voice was very kind, very calm. “But you don’t know me. I can’t be the one to help you.”

Buffy continued looking at the pictures. “But one of them can?”

“Choose one,” the girl said. “You will be led to what you need.”

Buffy slowly walked around the circle, nearer to the pictures. The water never stopped moving, but the pictures became clearer as she looked. 

There was one that was a tree, that kind with drooping branches and leaves like feathers. Weeping Something? But it was completely black, and sparks were flying off of it. 

Buffy stepped forward to the next one, and saw Anya, as in, ex-demon Anya, the girl Xander had taken to the prom. She was in a wedding dress, outside on Buffy’s front porch, pounding on the door. “Let me out!” she demanded. “You can’t keep me trapped in here!”

The next picture was of Spike and Drusilla, of all people. Drusilla was standing on the edge of a cliff, holding Spike by the neck, letting him dangle. He was struggling, and grabbing at her hands. Both were in human guise, and Drusilla turned to Buffy. “You’ll have to catch him, dearie,” she said, before letting go.  
  
Buffy frowned in confusion, and hastily moved on to the next one. The only thing there, however, was a corn field, but the corn was made of obvious plastic. Buffy waited to see if anything else was there, but when there wasn’t, she shrugged, and kept walking.

She walked past an office building in LA, a cemetery with matching gravestones, both with the same death year, but Buffy couldn’t make out the names or the birth year. She walked past a weeping Giles, and a shiny UC Sunnydale campus. She stopped in front of the library at her high school, and almost went in, before realizing it was much too modern, and wasn’t really hers. She walked past Cordelia, talking earnestly with Wesley, no surprise there, except her hair was dark blue and she was glowing white. She stepped past a robot Xander, smiling broadly at her, she stepped past a mirror which showed no reflection, and she stepped past an Oz who was blinking in and out of existence.

The last picture she stopped in front of was a suite, stuffed with moving boxes and various articles lying around. It took her a moment to place it, but she suddenly recognized it as the room the Mayor had given to Faith. 

And without a doubt, Buffy knew she needed to go in there. She turned back to the girl with the honey-colored hair, and the girl smiled softly, and nodded. 

Buffy paused. “I’m losing it, aren’t I?”

“Because you can see your future here?” the girl asked. “You’re a Slayer. It’s a prophecy dream. You know you won’t understand most of it, and you won’t remember anything that doesn’t matter right now.”

“Then what’s the point?” Buffy grumbled, and sighed, stepping into the picture. “Bye, Tara.”

“Good luck, Buffy,” Tara whispered.


	13. Into the Woods

Riley snorted. “I’m the lucky guy. Yeah.” He tossed Spike’s bottle back to him, and clasped his hands between his knees. “I’m the guy.”

Spike really, really didn’t feel comfortable with him here, especially now with this bloody great wound in his chest. He hoped the peace offering would kill any dust-happy urges the Boy Scout might still be harboring, but Spike wasn’t all that sure he could keep his own tongue in check for that peace to last long. 

And he knew Buffy would be after him. Sooner or later. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how pissed off she’d be at him...for barging into her love life. For destroying her relationship when it had nothing to do with him. 

He tipped the bottle to his lips again. Why wouldn’t Soldier Boy just  _ leave _ , let Spike go to sleep and recover in peace. 

“So what do I do now?” Riley asked.

Spike blinked, and had to replay the words in his mind for a moment before he decided they actually had been spoken aloud. “You’re not serious.”

Riley gave a weak shrug. “I messed up. Buffy’s friends will probably side with her...they’re loyal like that. Ironically, you the enemy might be my best ally.”

Spike tilted his head, and then gestured with the bottle. “You miss the part about me fawning over the bint? I brought her there to break you up, what could possibly be going on in that farm boy brain of yours to make me think I’d give you relationship advice?”

Riley stood up and gave almost a snarl as he dove forward, grabbing Spike’s shoulders. Ow, ow, bloody hell,  _ ow. _ “What?” Spike gasped. “You know that already, what’re you comin’ down on me for?”

Riley’s fingers dug deep into Spike’s shirt, probably tearing the fabric, and definitely bruising the skin. He might be sulking about his missing superstrength, but there was plenty of raw muscle left in him. But Riley let him go, and then began pacing the floor. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t tell me what to do. Tell me what you would do.”

Spike smirked. “You really, really don’t want to hear that.”

“I really, really do,” Riley said, turning back. “You’re a vampire. She likes those.”

“She liked  _ Peaches _ ,” Spike spat. “Angel,” he corrected, at Riley’s confused look. “No, mate, that girl is determined to be miserable. She’d only let herself be with an ensouled demon, because she craves the darkness, but only if it’s...reigned in. If she doesn’t have to actually endorse it. Otherwise I’d have been shagging her long before you even showed.”

“You’d have killed her without that chip,” Riley reminded him.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Maybe. But that’s not true anymore. Now, if I messed up…” he paused, and began staring off into the distance. “Now, I’d...I’d try to be what she needed. To remember what she likes, to give her as much of that as I knew how. I’d sweep her off her feet, I’d hold her so close that her soul would start bleeding into me...I’d try to be better. For her.” He’d almost forgotten Riley was there, and he came back to reality with a start. He glowered, and sipped his bottle again. “I’d be better,” he muttered.

“I don’t think that’s enough for me,” Riley said. “I’ve been better. I don’t know what else I could be doing.”

Spike snorted. “Because she’s too good for you.”

Riley’s jaw clenched. “She’s also too good for  _ you _ .”

Spike closed his eyes, and was silent. “I know,” he finally murmured.

There was silence again, until Riley said softly, “Vampires can’t love.”

Spike’s lips twitched into a smile. “Mm,” he said. “Yes. Lots of myths about supernatural creatures going around. Want to be careful which fairy tales you listen to.”

Riley stopped pacing, and Spike opened his eyes to see him staring at the ground. “Why…” Riley looked at the window, then back at the ground. “Why do you let sunlight in here?”

“Why are you a soldier?” Spike snapped immediately. “Why do you patrol when you know the Slayer’ll be fine without you? Why do you pay for vamps to bite you? You like the dance with death, same as the rest of us monsters. It’s probably all she sees in you.” He desperately hoped Riley wouldn’t push the issue. Because the truth was that Spike enjoyed sunlight and always had. He was willing to dart around in the daytime and drive in a car with streaked paint covering the windows just to be near it. It wasn’t like he couldn’t see what he needed to avoid while walking around in here.

Riley sat back down on the bench, and lowered his head, running his hands through his hair. “I got an offer,” he said suddenly. “A mission--I could leave Sunnydale.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.”

Riley looked up. “If I ask Buffy to choose...to ask me to stay or to let me go...”

“She won’t pick you, mate.” Probably risking his life by saying it, but Spike was sort of the opinion that Riley wasn’t after vengeance anymore.

Riley hesitated. “Still. I have to ask.”

Spike didn’t say anything else, and finally, Riley heaved a sigh and stood up. He looked down at Spike again as he turned towards the door. “You get a pass,” he said. “This time. And if Buffy asks me to stay, I’ll play nice with you as long as you will. But don’t ever interfere with my life, or work again, you got that? Because I _will_ come after you, and Buffy can just deal.”

“Why’d you tell me?” Spike asked. “Any of this? What makes you think I care?”

“You’re dead,” Riley smiled, and shrugged. “Nothing that I say to you matters. I just to work some stuff out.”

The pain in Spike’s chest got even more intense than the hole there. The hole was probably already closing up. But the knowledge that Buffy probably felt the same...why she’d let him comfort her that night on the back porch…

“If I leave,” Riley said suddenly, and Spike realized he was right by the door. “I’m not gonna be around to make sure you don’t touch her.”  
  
“No. Reckon that would be a bit difficult if you’re in Afghanistan or what all.”

“What will you do?” Riley asked.

Spike tipped the remainder of his bottle into his mouth. “Dunno. No concern of yours though, is it? You don’t trust her to take care of herself?”

“She’s not the one I don’t trust.”

With a massive effort, Spike heaved himself off his chair, clutching his chest with one hand, and grabbing the arm of the chair with the other. He righted himself, and faced Riley.

“You really think you’re leaving tonight, don’t you?” he asked, grinning.

Riley didn’t answer. He looked down, and asked, “Would you try to take her?”

“I won’t force it on her,” Spike said. “I would never. Force myself on her.”

Riley sighed. “Guess that’ll have to be good enough.”


	14. Doomed

“And the demons were the sacrifice?” Giles asked. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “So much I didn’t know...that I should have known…”

“Stop,” Buffy said firmly. “Giles, you’re the victim of a demon attack, you don’t need any more beating up today. You helped us enough, and the apocalypse is averted. So no more moping, okay?”

Giles gave her a grateful smile, which faded as he heard a crash from upstairs. He sighed, and Buffy crossed her arms, looking up at the ceiling. 

“Spike!” Xander shouted, from the foot of the stairs. “You wanna tear something apart, tear apart my parents’ basement. Not Giles’ bedroom!”

“He’s looking for his shirt,” Willow informed him.

“Yeah,” Xander said. “I know. I got to hear all the way over about how he couldn’t find it when he left, and so it must still be here somewhere.”

A door slammed upstairs, and Spike emerged on the staircase. He was wearing an unbuttoned red silk shirt, and holding his Hawaiian attire crumpled in one hand, which he tossed at Xander. “Never again,” he said. “Next time I go the full monty, so if that’s a sight you don’t want to see, you’d better find me proper backups, Harris, you got that?”

Buffy raised her eyebrows, still crossing her arms. “Where was it?”

“Linen closet,” Spike said casually, buttoning his shirt up. 

Willow stared blankly. “Why?”

“I actually really don’t want to know, thank you,” Giles said. “What I would like is for him to clear out of here, however. I thought my head had stopped throbbing, but suddenly…”

“Of course,” Willow said quickly. “We should all get going. I’ll come check in on you tomorrow Giles, kay?” She shuffled out, dragging Spike with her, and Buffy and Xander followed. 

“I expect my jeans back in perfect condition, Spike!” Giles called after them.

Once outside Spike began heading off in a direction that was decidedly opposite to Xander’s house. “Hey!” Xander protested. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Bronze,” Spike said casually. “Since you won’t let me touch anything your folks have got on hand.”

“That’s because my dad said he’d kill me if he ever saw any of his alcohol missing,” Xander said. “But you’re still a prisoner. You can’t just go off by yourself.”

Spike stopped, and Buffy saw the frustration in his face, which morphed into a resigned look. “Fine,” he said, and though it seemed to hurt him to say, he added, “You come with me and I’ll buy.”

“Really?” Willow asked, and when Xander jabbed her in the side, she added quickly, “Uh, I mean, I can’t believe you think we can be bought off that easily.”

Spike smirked. “Not buying you off. You were probably gonna head there anyway. And I know they won’t sell to you. But they will to me.”

Xander and Willow both looked to Buffy quizzically, and she shrugged. “Sure, why not. I just saw the inside of the Hellmouth, I could do to have some brain cells killed.”

It was definitely a new experience to head to the Bronze with her two best friends and also her mortal enemy. And also to watch that mortal enemy head to the bar, and come back with three glasses and two bottles. And even more so to hear said mortal enemy proclaim “here you go, kiddies,” as he set the glasses and a large bottle of whiskey in front of them, before settling back next to her on the sofa, drinking straight from another bottle. 

Weird didn’t begin to cover it. Weird was a good several hundred square feet away from covering it. 

Willow tasted hers first, and instantly gagged. “Wow,” she choked. “I see why people drink this. It sums up life perfectly.”

“I’m a man,” Xander assured himself. “I’m a man, I’m a man.” He downed a tiny portion, and instantly began sputtering. 

Buffy knew she wasn’t going to like the whiskey either, but she wasn’t prepared for quite how violently it would burn going down. “Well,” she said, when she finished coughing. “This night better last forever, because we’re going to need at least that long to get through this.”

“We should play a drinking game,” Willow suggested, and when Spike shifted, Buffy turned to see him quirk an eyebrow.

“Like what?” Xander asked. “Don’t drinking games involve a lot of, you know, the drinking part? Because that’s sort of the issue here.”

“Not if we play something where drinking is the penalty,” Willow said. “We could play truth or dare.”

“What are we, twelve-year-olds at a sleepover?” Xander asked.

“Yeah, sorry Will,” Buffy said, stifling a laugh as she sipped her drink again. “Those are pretty unmixy things.”

“I think it’ll be fun,” Willow persisted. “Because you can opt not to respond to whatever was asked, but then you have to take a shot.”   
  
Spike snorted. “You three really have never done this before, have you.”

Buffy glared at him, and then looked to Willow. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Xander sighed. “If anyone I know comes in, I’m instantly gonna stop participating.”

“Fair enough,” Willow said. “Spike, you in?”

He looked at her incredulously. “No,” he said. “I did my part, Red, you leave me out of this.”

“Fine,” she replied. “Buffy, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she answered. 

“Are you gonna start dating Riley?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Truthfully. He keeps asking. And maybe I want to. But I don’t know if we will.”

There was silence, and Buffy quickly said, “Xander?”

“Dare,” he said immediately. 

“I dare you to lick the floor,” Buffy said.

“Oh!” Willow cried. “Oh, gross!”

Xander looked at Buffy with a betrayed look on his face, but he got down on his knees, and bent towards the ground. 

“Oh, stop!” Willow cried, covering her face. “Xander, just take the drink!”

“Nope,” he said, and paused, before his tongue barely darted out and grazed the ground. He instantly jumped up, and Buffy and Willow both squealed. “Burn my tongue,” Xander gasped, reaching for his glass and throwing back the rest of its contents. “Sweet, blessed acid, purge me of this filth.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Buffy grinned.

“Willow,” Xander said, after he’d drunk another glass. Tears were streaming down his face. “Truth or--”

“Dare,” she said promptly.

“I dare you--” he pointed to the bar. “To flirt with that guy and get him to sell you a martini or something.”

Willow squirmed, giggling, but she hopped up off the couch, and swaggered over. Xander turned his head to watch her, and Buffy could only peek through her fingers. “What’s wrong with us?” she whispered. “I’ve never blushed so hard in my life, and all you did was ask her to flirt.”

“I know,” Xander said. “And licking the floor? Asking after your dating life? We seriously can’t come up with anything edgier than that?”

“Maybe this game only lets you play with juvenile-high risks,” Buffy said.

“Or you just never stopped being losers,” Spike said. “Lends credence to my whole theory about you being stuck in tenth grade, don’t you think, Sparky?”

Xander turned briefly to glare at him before looking back at Willow. They couldn’t really see what was happening, but she came back with a can of diet coke. 

She handed it to Buffy. “No go,” she said sadly. “But hey, he gave me a free soda! So I did that much!”

“All right Willow, you smooth vixen!” Xander said, high-fiving her.

If Buffy expected the game to get any more daring, or more truthful, she would have been disappointed. But she wasn’t--it was fun feeling scandalized again for things they probably said and did in their lives anyway. And because none of them passed up on anything, they started just passing the bottle around when they felt like it, and though the burning never stopped, the fun in forcing it down just got stronger.

“Well,” Xander said eventually, tapping the bottle. “Looks like we’re dry, folks. One more turn for the road?”

“Sure,” Willow said, then started. “We drank that whole thing?”

“Maybe I should hook up with Riley,” Buffy said. “Then I can stay with him tonight and he can baby me through my hangover.” The idea of that was so funny that she started wildly giggling.

“Buffy, truth or dare?” Willow asked. “And you actually have to take this one, remember. Your ticket out is empty.”

“Dare,” Buffy said, trying to suck the last drops from her glass.

“I dare you…” Willow paused, looking around at them dramatically. “To dance with Spike.”

Buffy’s hand slipped, and her glass shattered on the ground.

“ _ What _ ?” Spike demanded. “I told you I wanted no part of this!”

“I’m not talking to you,” Willow said demurely. “This isn’t your dare, it’s hers.” She looked at Buffy. “Well?”

Buffy froze, then swallowed. The room was spinning, and she wasn’t sure whether she should quite blame the alcohol for that. Stupid Slayer constituion. It was probably already flushing out of her system. 

She looked at Spike. “He doesn’t want to,” she said.

“Spike, you’re off plumbing duty if you do this,” Xander said quickly. 

Spike smiled, and set his bottle down...how it still had anything left was beyond them. “You and I both know my name was blotted from the chore wheel long before this. But, seeing as how it will annoy her so…” he looked at Buffy, and grinned. He stood up, holding out his hand. “Let’s show ‘em how it’s done, sweetheart.”

“Pig,” Buffy slurred. But she stood up, knocking his hand away, and turned towards the dance floor.   
  
And the peppy techno song that had been playing immediately ended, and something slow came on instead. Buffy froze, and looked helplessly at Willow. 

Willow’s mouth dropped open, and then she giggled. “Sorry, Buffy, but the dance gods have spoken.”

“I’m disowning you as friends,” Buffy said. “Both of you.” 

“You have to mean it,” Willow added. “I’d better believe you guys are crushing on each other, got that? Otherwise I’m gonna make you keep doing it until it looks real.”

Buffy squared her shoulders, and marched to the dance floor. She could hear Spike behind her, and she turned and stared daggers at him. 

“Now now, pet,” he said, grinning that horrible smug grin as he lifted her arms around his neck. “That how you look at someone you fancy? Because I’d really rather not do this time warp again, if Willow decides we didn’t pass.”

He placed his hands on her waist, and started swaying with her, and Buffy closed her eyes. And it...it was easier if she didn’t have to look. Because it actually felt pretty amazing. It had been a long time since someone had slow danced with her like this. Like, a really long time. 

Angel at the prom, actually. That was the last time she could think of. So, she could do this. Just pretend it’s Angel. 

But she knew it wasn’t. Everything about this was different...aside from being able to sense, even with her eyes closed, that Spike was the one standing there. And the way the tips of his fingers were lightly stroking up and down her sides, and the slow and deliberate way he was moving…

She opened her eyes again, and looked up at him. He’d been looking down, but his gaze flickered up to meet hers. “What?” he asked.

“When’s the last time you did this?” Buffy asked.

Spike considered. “I danced like this with Harmony the night I met her. I don’t think she fancied it much, and she only went along with it because, well.” He smirked, cocking his head. “There was so much  _ else  _ that she was fancying at the time.”

Buffy snorted. Her arms were getting tired, and she moved them down, linking her hands behind his waist. She still kept as much of a distance as she thought the rules of the dare would allow, but she looked back up at him. “Before that?”

“Drusilla,” he said. 

“Never anyone else? You don’t, like, do this with victims?”

He didn’t answer, and after a pause, one of his hands slowly left her waist, and traveled behind his back. He pried away her unresisting fingers, and tucked them into his, before raising their hands to his chest.

Buffy definitely blamed the alcohol for the room spinning now. But it was fine, just pretend it was Angel, pretend it was Angel…

“How about you?” Spike asked. “Who was the last bloke lucky enough to dance with the Slayer?”

“Who do you think?” Buffy asked.

He tensed up, releasing his hold on her fingers just a touch, but not letting them go entirely. He kept moving, slowly, soothingly, and Buffy suddenly leaned her head on his chest, just so she could avoid the glare she knew was in his eyes. 

“Didn’t know he was much for dancin’,” Spike finally said.

“Yeah, he told me he wasn’t great at it. And he wasn’t, but I appreciated him trying anyway.” Buffy closed her eyes again, leaning into Spike’s hold, trying to think back to that night. If she could just recreate the memory vividly enough, then maybe…

She felt Spike’s chin nuzzling the top of her head, and gave up trying. “I don’t do this with victims,” he said softly. “I never have.”

“Mm,” Buffy said distractedly, rubbing her cheek against him. “Well then you must not think of me as--”

The song ended, the spell broke, and enough of the alcohol left Buffy’s brain just enough for reason to seep back in. She yanked herself away from Spike’s embrace, and again began shooting daggers with her eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she snapped.

Spike looked disoriented, like a spell had just broken for him too, but he just shrugged, and glared back. “This was a bloody game, Slayer, one that you and your mates decided you wanted to embark on. I was just making sure to keep my head down, since you like to remind me that I’ll be whipped if I don’t behave.” 

He stalked away from her, and hurried up the stairs to the balcony. Buffy stayed rooted where she was for a moment, before turning towards the exit.

“Riley,” she said. “Riley likes me, Riley wants to date me, normal, normal Riley. It’s your lucky day, Finn, because I  _ absolutely _ want to date you back.”


	15. Fool For Love

“I look at you…” Drusilla said. “All I see is the Slayer.”

And she did. That golden angel...that twisted snake, with blood in her eyes and chaos in her hands...she was always dancing around her Spike now. She was always there, holding onto Spike, laughing, whispering in his ear, and sometimes she turned into a tiny fairy, several tiny fairies, and just fluttered around his head. It burned to kiss him now. He tasted like ashes, and he tasted like fire, and he tasted of liquid gold, melting all over Dru. 

She could see the tears in his eyes. He didn’t know what was happening to him, her poor, dear prince. But that wasn’t her fault. Wasn’t her fault if he couldn’t feel the Slayer digging into his brain, putting her own toys inside his box. 

“Then take her away,” Spike said suddenly.

Dru blinked, and watched him. She eyed the Slayer, who was laughing, but at least wasn’t holding on to him now. 

“Make her go away,” Spike said earnestly, taking a step closer. “You can do it. I know you can.”

Dru shook her head. “Cannot fool a man with children’s tricks,” she said. 

“I’ve  _ seen _ you!” Spike protested, his tears hovering in his eyes, threatening to fall. “You’ve enthralled vampires before.”

“Weaker,” Dru said softly. “Lower. Not you, my little Spike. Not you.” But she could feel hope unlooked for starting to bloom in her chest. Grandmother was dead, and Daddy was lost. There were tiny pinpoints of light in her brain, suggesting over and over that all might not be lost on either of those fronts, but for now...Spike was all she had left. 

And Spike loved her, and Spike wanted her, and Spike had always been there to take care of her. She longed for the days when he knew exactly what made her tick, and he was always there to share in the joys of everything.

Back before the sun shone about him like a halo. Before he’d started digging his human dolly William out to play with again.

But Spike was looking at her now pleadingly, hopefully. He trusted her to be able to do this, and she couldn’t deny that he seemed to very much want it. 

Dru stepped forward and held her hand out, and he instantly snatched it up, softly pressing it to his lips, before caressing it with his cheek.

“Please, princess,” he whispered, swallowing his tears back. He turned her hand so that he could kiss and nuzzle her palm. “Do it for us?”

She closed her eyes and looked away. “You must desire it,” she said. “You must be willing to cast her out. I cannot sing my lullaby otherwise.”

“I am,” he said eagerly. “I do. I want this more than anything, baby.” 

She turned back to him, and he sharply pulled her into his arms, kissing her desperately. She responded in turn, allowing him to grip her waist, and tangle his fingers in her hair, but she could still feel doubt dancing about her. 

She finally took his hand, and led him away, looking back over her shoulder to see the Slayer remaining behind, smirking and waggling her fingers. 

Dru led him back home, led him to their bed, and pointed to it. He immediately crawled on top of it, lying on his back and looking up at her. Dru climbed up after him, crawling towards him until she was leaning inches above his face. 

His face was expressionless, but when she looked into his eyes, she again saw such blinding trust. He had always been putty in her hands, but now...now he seemed even less. Or even more. He hadn’t been this meek under her hand for a long, long time. He was something softer, something stronger. The Slayer had reached down into places that Dru wasn’t sure she could follow. 

Her heart twisted to think that she might have lost him forever.

She raised her hand, pointing two fingers at his eyes, trying not to let them shake. “Be in me,” she murmured, and watched Spike’s eyes follow where she led them. Her hand was definitely shaking now, and she had to hold her wrist with her other hand. “Be rid of her,” she whispered. “Don’t let the sunshine take you, my love. Stay in the dark, stay with your princess, stay away from Sunnydale. Forget…” she nearly choked on the next words, “Buffy Summers. She is nothing, she is nobody, she never was.”

She snapped her hand shut, and laid her forehead on Spike’s. “Go to sleep, my black knight,” she said softly. “I am here.”

He blinked up at her for a second, clearly confused but still trusting, and then his arm snaked around her waist, and he pulled her to him. She let herself fall against his chest, and propped her chin up on it, watching as his eyes closed.

Dru took his hand, and stroked his knuckles, softly at first, and then more violently, until she found she was scratching at them. She watched disinterestedly as the blood dribbled from the scratches, and then she realized she was hungry. 

She sat up, but straddled Spike instead of leaving. She watched him for a while, and reached out, stroking his face.

Eventually she moved to get off the bed, when his lips suddenly moved, and he said, “Buffy.”

Drusilla snarled in frustration, and hit Spike’s chest. “No!” she said. “No Buffy!”

He was silent for a moment, but then he began murmuring, “gonna kill….Buff...gonna rip her heart out...swallow it whole…”

Dru screamed, and hit his chest again. “I already know!” she said. She slid off the bed, and turned to a dresser, lifting it up and tossing it to the ground. “You’ve already done it! No...haven’t done it.” She pulled several of her dresses out of the closet and began tearing them into shreds. “Will do it? Will do it.” She picked up a lamp and tossed it at the wall.

When she’d destroyed everything that was on hand to destroy, she flounced towards the door, looking back at the bed. “Lamb to the slaughter,” she hissed. “School’s out for bloody summer.” 

Spike hadn’t moved from where she’d left him. She debated killing him, for one wild moment, before she simply gave a sniff of disdain, and slammed the door behind her.


	16. Crush

“Dawn,” Buffy said calmly. “Stay away from the window.” She flipped another page of her magazine, and shifted on her bed so she was leaning on her hip. 

Dawn ignored her, and continued pressing her nose up to the glass. “He looks so sad,” she said. “Come on, Buffy, why couldn’t we keep his invite?”

“Because he’s a creep,” Buffy said shortly. She’d filled her mother in on some of the details of Spike’s...declarations, and she’d tell the gang tomorrow, but somehow she really didn’t feel comfortable telling her sister. 

“He’s crying,” Dawn said softly.

“Dawn!” Buffy tried to slam her magazine shut, but turns out you couldn’t do it all that well if it wasn’t a book. “If he looks up and sees you, he’ll try and use you to get to me!”

“He hasn’t so far,” Dawn mumbled. “He likes hanging out with me.”

“No he doesn’t,” Buffy sighed, sliding off her bed and joining Dawn at the window. “He’s just a psychotic vampire with a….” she suddenly saw Spike, sitting against her tree, his knees drawn up and his hands on either side of his head. “Schoolboy…crush...”

Dawn looked at her quickly. “I thought you said it was a twisted obsession.”

“What?” Buffy asked distractedly, still staring out the window. She turned to meet Dawn’s eyes, and snapped back into focus. “Oh...it is. Twisted obsession, schoolboy crush. Same thing.”

Dawn smirked, unconvinced, and looked back out the window. And Spike started raising his head, and Buffy shouted “Crap, get down!” and pulled her down beside her.

Dawn shrugged. “He won’t try and use me to get to you if he saw you were watching, too. What’s the big?”

Buffy stared at her. “The point of shutting someone down is to not look back, Dawn.”

“So you’re saying you’re looking back?” 

“No, I’m saying that’s what he’d think,” Buffy said, through ground teeth. 

Dawn scoffed, and hugged her knees to her chest. “So, what did you say to him?”

Buffy pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I really don’t want to talk about it, Dawn.”

“Why not? He was my friend, if he’s not--”

“He wasn’t your friend, Dawn!” Buffy snapped. “Get that through your head, right now!  _ He was not your friend. _ ”

“If he’s not gonna be allowed to see me,” Dawn pressed on, undeterred. “Then I wanna know what you said to him.”

“Why do you care so much about him?”

“Why don’t you?” Dawn pressed. “He’s trying, okay? He agreed to watch me and Mom when you thought Glory would go after us, he helps you with the slaying thing sometimes, and he…” she suddenly closed her eyes and looked away. 

“He what?” Buffy pressed.

“When he found out I was the Key,” Dawn said. “He was, like, super nice about it. I thought he was gonna tease me or something. And for a minute I thought he was gonna kidnap me, and I don’t know, sell me. When he thought it was made of gold he talked about us splitting the take.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Of course. Big surprise there.”

“But he didn’t,” Dawn said emphatically. “He was sympathetic. And has been ever since. You don’t have to date him if you don’t want to, but can’t you just let him hang out with me, or you, if he wants to?”

Buffy peeked back up over the window. Spike was smoking now, or had just started too, but he threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with his boot more violently than was probably necessary. Then he kicked the tree and whirled around, and Buffy could see the tears on his cheeks as the light from the house hit them. He stormed towards the street, coat billowing behind him, and Buffy closed her eyes and leaned her head on the windowsill. 

And then she opened them, and stared into Dawn’s inquisitive eyes. She suddenly moved forward, and hugged her sister. Dawn leaned into the hug, leaning on Buffy’s chest, and letting Buffy stroke her hair. Buffy thought back to Spike watching her climb out of his den, blood on his lips, and her fear that she couldn’t trust him anymore. She thought about him professing his love for her, and demanding it in return, but really, had that been so different from Riley? When she’d told him adamantly that their relationship would be doomed if they dated, but she let him talk her into it anyway? 

And she really, really tried not to think about what Spike was going home to. No girlfriend, no ex, and no crush. No friends, that she knew of, who would listen to his tale of woe and thump him on the shoulder and tell him he’d move on, plenty of fish in the sea, before buying him another drink. No family to call him out on all the stupid ways he’d treated her, or to be supportive and demand to know who that girl thought she was, anyway? 

He was alone, and he...well, he was a vampire. Being alone was what vampires did best, right? Besides killing, of course, and Spike couldn’t very well do that right now...and this train of thought wasn’t heading to any destination Buffy wanted to be a part of. 

She hugged her sister tighter, and said, “Okay. Mom doesn’t even know all of this. But I’m gonna tell you what actually happened when I went over there.”


	17. Primeval

Well, she wouldn’t have thought she could be so engrossed in business ethics, but a perky knock on her door made Tara jump, and she realized she’d been more concentrated on it than she thought.

But she was still happy to put the textbook down, and answer the perky knock. She didn’t know why she’d described it in her head as perky--it just sounded that way. It was probably a student handing out flyers. It wasn’t Willow’s knock, and she and her friends were off trying to stop a war anyway.

Tara tried not to think too hard about that.

She opened the door, and was surprised to see Anya standing there. Anya, who certainly did look perky. She smiled. “Hi!” she said. “How is your studying going?” and then she waltzed into the room as if she did it all the time.

“Um..” Tara said, and shut the door. “How--how did you know I was studying?”

“Because you’re a college student, and you’re in your college dorm room alone,” Anya pointed out. “There’s only one thing a college student would be doing if they’re in their dorm room alone. Unless they’re waiting for somebody else, but, Willow is out slaying demons, so it can’t be that.”

Tara nodded, and watched as Anya threw herself on the bed, slugging her purse off to one corner. She began swinging her legs, and looked around the room, nodding in satisfaction. “This is a nice room,” she said. “Very demon friendly.”

“D-demon friendly?” Tara asked, blushing furiously. “W-what makes you think it’s demon friendly?”

Anya rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying you’re into demons, Tara. I’m merely pointing out that if a demon were to come in here, they would know that you sympathize with them.”

“Just the good ones!” Tara protested. She blushed again. What was Anya doing here, anyway? And was there anything that might give away Tara’s status as part demon?

“Obviously,” Anya said. 

There was silence for a moment, and then Tara said, “Um, how did--how did you know which dorm room was mine?”

“I looked it up. It’s very easy to find out where any students on campus live.”

Tara was struck with fear again. Her family knew she was going to school here, but she’d been so careful not to let out any indication of them finding her...would it really be so easy to just look her up?

“So,” Anya said. “Xander and Willow and Buffy and Giles made up. That’s good news.”

“Uh huh,” Tara said. She was still standing by her door, but she realized Anya wasn’t about to leave in a hurry, and made her way back to her desk. “Yes, it’s...it’s very good news.”

Anya nodded. “I mean, it’s very likely they’ll fall out again. It’s human nature. But that’s all right, because I’m there to remind Xander that he doesn’t need them.”

“Oh...I think it’s great that they’re such close friends,” Tara said. “I think they do need each other. Besides, Willow said that Spike was trying to get them to fight. I think it was the first time they really got that mad at each other.”

Anya nodded again. “Well, that makes sense. Spike is a very old vampire, I’m sure he knows how to get people to fight with each other. Still, they were pretty idiotic to fall for it.”

Tara gave a soft smile. “Human nature. Like you said.”

There was silence again, and Tara said, “So...did you need me for something? Did you hear something, or--”

“No, I just thought we could hang out,” Anya said breezily. “You know, like the wives at home, waiting to see if our soldiers will come back?”

“Oh,” Tara said quietly. That made sense. And she was suddenly glad Anya was there, even if she didn’t really understand her and they’d never exactly hung out before. But if the fight ended badly...Tara was pretty sure Anya would know what to do.

“Say they do break up with each other though,” Anya said. “As friends, of course, not as anything else. None of them are dating each other, as far as I know.”

Tara smiled again. “Not as far as I know, either.”

“But if they do, you and I could still be friends, right?”

She said it sort of...flippantly, but she was suddenly looking at Tara with a hint of desperation. And Tara sympathized. She’d never been completely without friends, but it was still hard to make them, and even harder to lose them. The only people in Anya’s circle were connected to Buffy, and if Xander and Buffy fell out...

She nodded solemnly. “Sure, Anya. We’d still be friends.”

Anya’s perky smile returned. “Good,” she said. “Because I like you. When I get married, I want you to be one of my bridesmaids.”

“M-married?” Tara burst out. “Xander proposed?”

“Oh no!” Anya looked incredulous. “No, he’s certainly not ready for that kind of commitment. We’ve only just recently moved on to the stage where we sometimes hang out for reasons other than sex.”

Tara tried not to smile, but she didn’t really think Anya would mind.

“But I don’t intend to let us break up,” Anya said. “So I can wait for a while. And when it happens, I’d like you to be in my wedding party.”

Tara nodded. “If we’re still friends, then I’m sure I’d love to.”

“But we will be. You just said so.”

“Of course,” Tara said. There was silence again, and she reached into one of her desk drawers, and pulled out a bag of individual chocolate bars. She held the bag out to Anya, and Anya silently took one. Tara did as well, and they sat for a moment, quietly eating their chocolate.

Finally Anya said, “Do you...know what they’re doing, exactly?”

Tara shook her head. “I know some of it. Adam is trying to get the demons and the soldiers to kill each other, and I guess that wouldn’t be good for the rest of us, either. But I don’t really know how they plan to stop it.”

“Oh,” Anya said. She took another candy bar.

“I’m thinking of getting a cat,” Tara said brightly, after another silence.

“Ooh,” Anya said. “Like a familiar?”

“That’s what Willow said, too,” Tara said. 

“Well, it makes sense. You are a witch.”

Tara giggled, and shook her head. “I know, but I just wanted it like as a pet.”

“Well, that’s good too,” Anya said. “Although if you really wanted one, I know someone who could give you a really good familiar. It would talk and everything.”

“Oh, like the cat in  _ Hocus Pocus _ ?”

“What?” 

Tara shook her head. “Never mind. And thanks, but my former roommate’s cat is having kittens, so I think I’ll just take one of those off her hands.”

Anya shrugged. “Okay, but don’t blame me when all the other witches try to talk to it.”

“What about you, you think you’d want any pets?”

Anya sighed. “Cats are all right,” she said. “But most animals just ask so much of you. They’re really just self-centered little vermin. It’s all I can do to take care of Xander most days. And I spend enough money on myself, I don’t need to spend it on another creature, too!”

Tara nodded sympathetically, and Anya said wistfully, “I would like a little puppy, though. Puppies are adorable. Everyone loves puppies.”

Tara grinned. “Well, maybe when you’re married you could get one. Then you’d have someone to help you take care of it.”

Anya nodded. “That’s very smart. And he would have to pay to feed it, too. Of course he’d have to get a job first.”

“I’m sure he will,” Tara said.

“Well I don't see how he can, when he’s always running off to stop the world from ending. You know this is the second year in a row I’ve had to watch him run straight into the jaws of death without me? And apparently he was doing it for years before that.”

“It kinda makes you proud, though, doesn’t it?” Tara asked. “Knowing you’re dating someone who helps make the world a safer place?”

“I guess,” Anya grumbled.

Tara slid to the floor and began picking nervously at her carpet. “How long do you think they’ll be? I mean, is this an all-day thing or--”

Both of them jumped when the phone rang, and Tara almost tripped over herself as she ran to answer it.

But Anya got there first. “Is Xander okay?” she demanded, without waiting to see who it was. She listened for a second, and then said, “Yes, this is Anya, who did you think it was?” Another pause, and then, “Okay. Bye, Willow.” 

She hung up. “That was Willow.”

“Are they okay?” Tara asked.    
  
Anya nodded. “They won, and they all made it out. They’re working on cleanup now, but Willow just wanted to let you know that they made it.” She stood up. “I guess I’d better get going. Xander will probably want to see me when he gets home.” She picked up her bag and headed towards the door. “Thanks for letting me hang out with you, Tara.”

She left, and Tara just shook her head, and grinned. Willow had brought a lot of crazy with her. But Willow was okay, and right now, Tara felt like she could handle any crazy thrown at her.


	18. Welcome to the Hellmouth

Buffy nervously twisted the phone cord in her hands. She kept glancing out the window to see if her mother’s Jeep was pulling up in the driveway, but so far she was still safe. “Come on,” she huffed into the phone. “Pick up already.”

At the last possible second, someone did. “Yeah?” A male voice brusquely asked. 

“Hello?” Buffy asked. “I’m uh…” she cleared her throat, and tried to slip a mature tone into her voice. “Yes, I recently moved into a new house, and I’m interested in having a priest sent over to get it blessed. You know, for…” she racked her brain. “For religious...reasons.”

There was a pause, a very long pause, and then the voice spoke. She couldn’t tell the age of him, exactly, but he was definitely British. Interesting. She’d never heard an English accent that wasn’t from the TV before. “Who is this?” he asked, in a confused and slightly annoyed tone.

Buffy was rather annoyed herself. Her mom could be back any minute, and Buffy really didn’t want to have to explain why she was trying to get their house blessed. “I’m B--” she stopped. “My name is Joyce. I just moved to Sunnydale, and--”

“Sunnydale, eh?” the voice asked. He chuckled. “And you think a blessing is gonna do you any good in that town, love?”

“Um…” Buffy hesitated. She knew, of course, that a blessing wouldn’t kill a vampire, nor prevent them from setting fire to the house if they felt like it. But it would make them more likely to give it a pass. She just sighed, and said, “Can you send someone over or not?”

The man chuckled again. “Good little religious skirt like you doesn’t have a personal acquaintance with the clergy?”

Buffy sighed. “New town, I told you.”

“And finding a new place of worship wasn’t at the top of your to-do list?”

“What are you saying?” Buffy snapped. “That I’m not holy enough for you?” 

“Now now,” the voice said, almost condescendingly. There was definitely a note of humor in it. “No need to get riled up, pet. Merely wondering if perhaps the quest for religious protection has a bit more to do with...demons that walk among us, rather than ones who walk in the heavens.”

Buffy hesitated. “So you know,” she said. “About…”

“Vampires?” He chuckled again, and now that he didn’t seem to be antagonizing her, Buffy found herself somewhat comforted by the sound. He was young, she decided. Younger, anyway. “Yeah, love. I know they’re about.”

“Oh,” Buffy said. “Well, I guess you would, working at a church and all. That kinda makes me feel better, that there are some organizations that know what’s the haps.” 

“Makes you feel better, does it?” he asked. “You don’t think vamps go more for the people who might try to end them?”

“Nah,” she said. “They avoid confrontation with their victims whenever possible. Easier to get a drop on someone who thinks they’re ordinary. They’re pretty cowardly, if they think someone might actually try to take them out. Like the Slayer, for example.” She paused. “Do you know what a Slayer is?”

“I should bloody well say so.”

Buffy raised her eyebrows. Wasn’t that a swear word? In England anyway? Was he allowed to say that on church grounds? She snickered at the thought.

“Something funny?” he snapped, and she snickered again.

“I just didn’t know you could say that,” she said. “On sacred ground, or whatever.”

“Oh.” And the chuckle was back, and he said, “Well, I’ve never been much for following the sodding rules.”

“Me neither,” she said. “My--uh, I mean, no one knows I’m doing this. I’m the only one in my family who knows about the, um. The demon world.”

“Is that right,” he asked, almost quietly. “You don’t think it’d be safer to tell them?”

“No,” she said emphatically. “They’d never...they wouldn’t understand, or they’d try to fix it, or…” she sighed. “It’s better if they don’t know.”  
  
There was a long silence on the other end, and then he said, “That’s a lonely world you’re setting up for yourself there, pet.”   
  
“Yeah,” Buffy said softly. “I mean, I had...someone. Who knew. He’s the one who told me, actually. But he died, and I…” she bit her lip. “I can’t have that happen again.”

“Died because of vampires?”   
  
Buffy closed her eyes. “Yeah.”

Another pause, and Buffy heard a rustling sound, before the man asked, in a louder voice, “How did you get this number?”

“Huh?” Buffy asked, startled by the subject change. “Oh...phone book. I didn’t know who would pick up, exactly.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll get no help from me,” he said. “I’m in Miami at the moment.”  
  
“Oh,” Buffy said, in surprise. “Oh! I called your personal number?”

“I don’t know if I’d say it’s  _ personal _ ; it’s just the line of where I am currently. But it gave me a hell of a start, for sure.”

“Sorry,” Buffy said, blushing. “I’m really sorry, um...you didn’t have to talk to me, you know. You could have just told me to leave you to your vacation or whatever, and I’d have tried somewhere else.”

“Well, it’s been a bit of a strange time for me,” he said. “My girl’s in some mood or other, and I haven’t seen her in a week. She wants me to take her to sodding Prague of all places.”  
  
“Prague?” Buffy asked, desperately trying to remember where on the globe that might be.

“Yeah,” he said ruefully. “‘S pretty, from what I hear, but hopping the pond is a bitch.”

Hopping the pond. Probably in Europe somewhere then. “Oh,” she said. “Well, I...I hope everything works out for you.”

He chuckled again, and Buffy definitely shouldn’t have been as warmed by it as she was. “Same to you. Watch out for those nasty vampires, yeah?”

“Oh, I’m already doomed,” Buffy said. “I start a new high school tomorrow.” She winced, remembering that she was trying to sound like a grown-up here. But since he wasn’t actually what she needed, she supposed it didn’t matter.

“Ah. And here I am fussing over whether our passports need renewing.”

Buffy giggled. “Well...thanks anyway. For...well. For talking, I guess.”

“No worries. But hey, pet? If you call this number again--leastways in the next week or so when it’s still connected--I will tell you to bugger off good and proper.”  
  
“Noted,” Buffy said. “Uh...what was your name?”

But the dull static on the other end told her he’d ended the call.


	19. Becoming Part 1

“What are we going to do?” Drusilla wailed. 

Spike tried not to roll his eyes. He tried not to show how pleased he was at Angelus having failed, and he certainly tried not to think about how badly he wanted to grab Dru, toss her onto the nearest bed--or ground, whatever--and shag her until she forgot all about the great bleeding rock, and they could just get out of there.

“What we always do in a time of trouble,” Angelus said. “Turn to an old friend. We’ll have our armageddon, I swear.” He grabbed a small vase and tossed it against the wall. 

Spike watched it smash, and then watched Angelus angrily pacing in front of him. “And, what friend did you have in mind, exactly?” he finally asked.

That seemed to calm Angelus down considerably, which hadn’t been Spike’s intention at all. “Buffy’s Watcher,” he said, in a much calmer tone. “He’s always got the answers. I heard he was even studying this thing, trying to spoil our fun without so much as a friendly line letting us know it was here.” He gave a slow smile. “He’ll help us.”

“Are you off your trolley?” Spike burst out. “You take her Watcher, and suddenly you’ve given her a very great incentive not to lose. You killed his bird and she almost took you down. You take the man himself, and she’ll burn us to the ground.”

Angelus tilted his head, and stalked over to Spike, leaning over and bracing his hands on the arms of the wheelchair. “You seem awfully confident in the Slayer’s abilities,” he said, in a low voice. “Surely you haven’t forgotten the centuries of havoc I’ve got on her?”

Spike clenched his jaw. “She’s _ different, _ this one, you git. And you’ve never exactly killed a Slayer before.”

“All right,” Angelus said, pushing himself up, and sending Spike rolling backwards in the process. “You got any better ideas then, since you’re such an expert at killing them?”

Spike closed his eyes, and tried to get his temper to stay where it was. “Why don’t you try again?” he asked, feigning as much artificial patience as he could. “Maybe something was wrong with the victim.”  
  
Angelus snarled. “Nothing’s wrong with the damn  _ victim _ , Spike!”   
  
“Slayer can’t kill if the world isn’t there,” Drusilla said in a singsong voice. “No need to fight, no need to win. Just need to let the puppy out to play.”   
  
Angelus turned towards her, and smiled in that possessive way that made Spike’s stomach churn. He closed his eyes, opting not to watch the way he knew Angelus was fondling her. But he could hear the slow murmur of, “My thought exactly, precious. We draw the Slayer away….we know she’ll come if I’m there.” Spike heard them both giggling, and opened his eyes again to stare hatefully at them. He regretted it immediately, as he’d known he would. He was nibbling her ear, and she was moaning as if he’d taken her to the seventh heaven. He turned his wheelchair away abruptly. 

“Where are you going?” Angelus snapped. 

Spike looked back. “Well, you’ve clearly thought out this plan very well, and you don’t need me to tell you that the Slayer’s smart, and she’s going to stop...us.”

“Really,” Angelus said. “You don’t think I can carry us to victory? If that’s the case, maybe you’d feel better changing sides? Shacking up with the Slayer to bring us down?” He started chortling even before the sentence ended, and then he burst into peals of laughter, with Drusilla cackling merrily beside him.

“Oh wait,” Angelus said, instantly returning to his solemn face. “I forgot.” He strode over, and kicked one of Spike’s wheels. “Guess you’ll have to stick with me, then.” He smiled. “But don’t look so glum. She’s been a thorn in our side all year, and if nothing else, I am going to kill her.” He gave a sigh of pleasure, and raised his hands. “Whether by my hand or Acathla’s. I am going to destroy her.”   


Drusilla danced her way over to him, and he slung his arm around her waist, fondling her hair. “Go round up whatever minions we have left,” Angelus told her. “Tomorrow night, you’ll take them to the high school. After that, well.” He grinned at her. “I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, sweetheart. But you’ll bring back our dear friend?”   
  
She nodded, beaming, and grabbed his hand as she led him out of the mansion, with the other vampires following.

Spike watched them go, seething, before he stood up, kicking his chair away, and then kicking the wall too for good measure. He began pacing even more angrily than Angelus did, and finally he stopped in front of the Acathla statue and shot daggers at it with his eyes.

“Too bad for you, mate,” he said heatedly. “You’re never going to come out of that rock. Even if I  _ do  _ have to shack up with the Slayer, I’ll--”

He stopped. He hadn’t taken it as more than the jab it was when Angelus said it, and even just now Spike had only meant it as an empty promise. But it suddenly laid itself all out very clearly before him. He’d help her, make sure she didn’t lose, and in return, she’d have to let him walk. With Dru, of course. He didn’t know whether she’d actually kill her former or not, but it didn’t matter, because Spike was going to get the hell out of dodge. And Angelus, for once, wouldn’t be able to do a sodding thing about it. 


	20. Superstar

Jonathan let Buffy lead him to where they knew Spike would be loitering. It was good for her self-esteem to feel like she was in charge sometimes. Not too much, of course, because even though Jonathan trusted his spell, there was always the niggling doubt that Buffy might remember what she was really capable of. But he didn’t want her feeling too helpless, either.

Spike rounded the corner of the crypt, right on cue, and smirked at them. “Oh, look,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Jonathan. Taking the little sidekick out for a walk, are we?” 

“Shut up, Spike,” Buffy said primly. 

Spike chuckled. “Ooh, semi-harsh language from Betty! You’re feisty when the big guy’s standing beside you.” Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, but to his surprise, Spike’s attention wasn’t on him anymore. It was on the Slayer. 

Spike strode forward, and tilted his head, letting his gaze drift hungrily over her. And not in the blood-sucking way, either. He had a thing for Slayers, of course. Jonathan knew that. He knew Spike had killed two, and had come to town looking to kill this one. It didn’t matter to him if she wasn’t as spectacular as the others, and that she was living in Jonathan’s shadow. She was what he had come for.

But Jonathan couldn’t convince himself that was all it was, as he watched the vampire. Because Spike was very much pushing it. He wouldn’t have been teasing Buffy just to tease her, not if he actually feared the legend standing slightly to his right. And he couldn’t lay a finger on her anyway, so he wasn’t really trying to intimidate her. 

“Someday,” Spike said, dropping his voice, and letting seduction take over the reins. “Sweet Slayer…” he lifted his hand, and sensuously slid his fingers down her golden curls, tucking them behind her ears as he stroked her face. “I would love to take you on. See you face the evil alone...for once.” His eyes flickered suggestively to hers, and his hand started going lower than it had any business going. 

Jonathan stepped forward to put an end to that, but Buffy suddenly grabbed Spike’s wrist. “We’re looking for a monster,” she said. “Big, ugly, hairy thing, with kind of a triangle mark on its forehead? You know anything about that?”

Spike blinked at her in surprise, and wrested his arm away from her. “No,” he said crisply. “But then again, I’m probably lying.” And then his suggestive smirk was back, and he said, “But if you wanted to tie me up and make absolutely sure…”

“Come on.” Jonathan took Buffy’s elbow and began pulling her away. “We’re not getting anything out of him.” He tried to suppress a shudder at how well Buffy had stood up for herself. He had to fix this monster thing, somehow.

But she completely caught him off guard when she suddenly shoved Spike back up against the crypt. “Hey!” Spike cried in surprise. “You’re not supposed to do that!” 

“You’re pretty much relying on butcher's blood these days, right Spike?” She asked. 

“What are you saying?” Spike asked in a low voice.

“Just that the butchers in this town respect Jonathan. They do him a favor, and you might find yourself getting kinda thirsty.” She raised her hands and stepped away, and Spike looked back and forth between the two of them in horror.

“Look, I don’t know much, okay?” Spike said. “Some vampires got kicked out of a cave in the hills, behind Brookside Park.” 

She’d done it. She’d actually gotten information out of him, and he was quivering as if Jonathan had been the one to interrogate him. Jonathan looked at Spike keenly, and then turned to Buffy. “That was very good,” he said. He swallowed. “Very good.” He glanced back at Spike, and said, “Would you mind giving me a moment with this scoundrel?”

“Sure,” Buffy said, and backed up a little. 

Jonathan grabbed Spike’s sleeve and yanked him around the corner of the crypt. 

“Stop, hey!” Spike gasped, trying to tug himself free. “I don’t know anything else, I swear!”

Jonathan slammed him against the wall, just as Buffy had done. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. 

“I don’t know,” Spike said. “I have no idea what that thing is, and you’ll be able to find it where I told you, so--”

“Are you afraid of me?”

Spike stopped in his protests. “What?”

“Are. You. Afraid of me?”

Spike lifted his chin. “You’re not so tough. Bet the Slayer would give you a run for your money if you ever gave her a little leeway.”   
  
Jonathan sighed in defeat and let go. He turned away, rubbing his chin. He turned back. Spike was massaging the back of his head. 

“So,” he said. “You are. You fear me, you’re afraid of the legend standing before you. You know I could take you out, any time I chose, and I wouldn’t even lose my breath.”

Spike visibly squirmed under that threat, and Jonathan knew he was right.   
  
“But with her…” Jonathan tilted his head in Buffy’s general direction. “What you two have goes deeper than that. Just like all the couples in the Scooby gang. The girls may swoon at the sight of me, but they still choose to fall in love with someone else.”

“What are you on about?” Spike hissed. “I’m not in  _ love _ with the bleeding  _ Slayer _ .”   
  
“Doesn’t matter,” Jonathan said. “You have history. You have a rivalry. When we’re together you only see her, and she’s more sure of herself around you.” He sighed, and closed his eyes. “And she might need that in this fight. Come on.”

“I don’t _ work _ for you…” Spike started, but Jonathan held up his hand. 

“Remember when I suggested you might still be able to fight demons?” he asked. “And when I dug that tracer out of your back?”

Spike pursed his lips. “Fine,” he said coldly. 

Buffy looked up at them in surprise as they came towards her. “What’s he doing here?”  
  
“He’s going to show us the cave,” Jonathan said. “Isn’t that right, Spike?” 

Spike just growled, but did lead them to the cave. Jonathan couldn’t be sure that Buffy actually needed Spike to help her defeat the monster, but...it was more for him. It was more assurance that he wouldn’t make the worst mistake of his life and let her die instead of giving up his power.

And Buffy  _ was _ stronger. And Spike threw his all into helping her, yanking her back from the chasm at one point, even calling her by her actual name. Jonathan sat trembling behind his pillar, but he knew it was just as well that the monster was going to die.

He could rewrite everyone’s lives, and even himself to be the most amazing person ever, but he couldn’t rewrite  _ them _ . He should have figured that out just by watching the couples of his friends; the ones that chose to stay together even though he was right there in front of them.

When the spell ended, Spike looked at Jonathan with the most angrily confused expression Jonathan had ever seen on anyone. “What the  _ hell _ …?” he demanded, and Jonathan shrieked, and suddenly didn’t care whether a chip was stopping Spike or not.

He just ran. 


	21. The Dark Age

“So, uh…” Xander said. “How do you plan on finding him? Exactly?”

“Well…” Willow asked. “He has to live somewhere, right?”

“He always comes when he’s needed, right?” Cordelia asked. “Like, he always swoops in to save Buffy right in the nick of time?”

“Yeah, but we’re not Buffy,” Xander said bitterly.

“Well if he’s such a noble, heroic, soul-having vampire, then that shouldn’t matter,” Cordelia said. She looked around at the street they were walking down, and then said loudly, “Oh, Angel? Come out come out wherever you are?”

“Cordy!” Willow cried in a loud whisper.

“Cordelia, if you wanted to offer yourself up as a noble sacrifice I would never get in the way of that,” Xander said. “But could you maybe not offer the rest of us up with you?”

“What? We know he’s out here,” Cordelia said. “He’s probably waiting to make some grand entrance.” She threw her head back and screeched, “Yo! Angel!”

“Cordel--” Willow started again, but she was cut off as a hand clamped around her mouth. She let out a muffled scream, and Xander and Cordelia whipped around to see that a vampire had grabbed her from behind. 

“Willow!” Xander cried, helplessly. He glared at Cordelia. “You see what you did?”

“Hey, not  _ my _ fault if I attracted the wrong type of…” But Cordelia too was cut off as another vampire shoved her to the ground. 

Xander launched himself at the vampire holding on to Willow, and got himself knocked down in the process. Cordelia screamed and crawled over towards him, cowering behind him. The vampire holding Willow went for her neck, and all three humans screamed. 

And then the vampire was down, and Angel caught Willow before she fell. Holding her protectively in one arm, he knocked the other vampire out as well, and then began dragging Cordelia up. Xander scrambled to his feet, and Angel pushed the girls towards him. “Stay out of the way,” he snapped, and they huddled together as Angel briefly tussled with the two vampires before staking them. 

He then turned back to them, and sighed in Cordelia’s direction. “Thanks,” he said. “You know, it’s really hard to lay low when someone’s screaming your name in the streets.”

“Well, you should leave a number where we can reach you then,” Cordelia said, crossing her arms. “Or you should have just come the first time I called.”

Angel just stared at her for a moment, and then turned to Willow and Xander. “You guys okay?” 

“Yeah,” Willow said. She reached up to touch her neck, and drew a shuddering gasp.   
  
Angel instantly knocked Xander out of the way, and went to examine her neck. He blew out a sigh of relief, and said, “It’s just a scratch. They barely broke the skin.”  
  
“Angel…” Willow said. “Um...we need your help.”

“Is Buffy okay?” he demanded instantly. Xander and Cordelia rolled their eyes, and then looked at each other when they realized they had the same reaction. They instantly looked away.  
  
“I don’t know,” Willow said. “But Giles and Miss Calendar aren’t. Miss Calendar got...kinda possessed...by a demon that wants to kill Giles.”  
  
“And we can’t kill the demon without killing her,” Xander added.

“And if we do nothing, the demon will just keep jumping from body to body,” Cordelia said. She shuddered. “I’m not going to sleep ever again if that happens.”  
  
“What do you need me for?” Angel asked gently. He was still studying the wound on Willow’s neck, but there was a worried look in his eyes. He took her by the shoulders, and looked earnestly into her face. “Willow. What do you need me to do?”   
  
Willow swallowed. “The demon jumps into the nearest dead or unconscious body when it feels threatened,” she whispered. “And...and I figured…”   
  
“That I’m dead.” Angel gave a slow nod. “You want me to let it possess me.”

Willow hung her head. “I realize how dangerous that is…”

“No.” Angel smiled, and shook his head. “I’ve already got a demon living inside me. It’s not gonna be happy about the prospect of a roommate, and it’ll fight like hell to maintain full residence.” He tilted Willow’s chin up. “She’s gonna be fine, Willow. I promise.”

Willow threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she burst out. “Thank you, thank you.”

Cordelia raised her eyebrows, and looked at Xander. “And you said he wouldn’t help us just because we’re not Buffy.”  
  
Xander shrugged, and smiled proudly. “Well, it’s Willow,” he said. “She’s pretty difficult to resist.”


	22. The Initiative

Buffy barely made it two steps in the direction of the scream she’d heard, when she saw a group of students walking and giggling, with one of the boys apparently ticking a girl and making her scream. 

No Spike then. Or any other vampire. Well, sitting out here waiting for him apparently hadn’t been the best idea, if guys like Riley were going to come along and urge her inside. She’d better actually go out looking for him.

But then she remembered Willow, who had left the party early, and was probably sitting up in their dorm again listening to depressing music. Alone. Buffy thought she’d just go check on her real quick. It wasn’t as if Spike was going anywhere. 

He never did, it seemed like. Always gravitated back towards her, like a really annoying magnet. Why hadn’t she just killed him yet?

Buffy headed up to her dorm room, her steps slowing and then immediately speeding up again as she heard a noise coming from behind her door. Really loud depressing music, for one thing, which was very unlike Willow. And just under that, she could barely make out tiny screams. 

The door was locked, and Buffy panicked and kicked it open. 

And there was Spike, golden eyes raised to her as he held Willow by the shoulders. Buffy stormed forward, but Spike just grinned at her, opened his mouth, and dove for Willow’s neck. 

“Willow!” Buffy cried, but her scream did nothing to match Spike’s. He howled even louder than the music, and let go of Willow to grab the sides of his head. 

Willow dropped, her head hitting her dresser on the way down, and went still. Buffy glanced at her anxiously, but then looked up at Spike in confusion. Spike shared a look of confusion with her, and then snarled, dropping to the ground, and lunging at Willow again. 

And again he let out a tortured scream, and threw himself away from her, huddling against the side of Buffy’s bed. 

Buffy had been rooted to the spot, stake in hand, but the minute Spike crawled away from her friend, she rushed to Willow’s side. Buffy rolled her over, and felt her head. There was a tiny cut on Willow’s forehead, but other than that she looked okay. Buffy picked her up and set her gently on her bed, then turned and glared at Spike.

Spike was breathing heavily, and starting up at Buffy, a very confused expression in his human eyes. Buffy crossed her arms, twiddling the stake in her hand. “What happened to you?” she asked in disgust. 

“What happened to--” Spike’s face twisted into a frown. “You should know, you bloody bitch! You’re the one who did this to me!”   
  
“I haven’t done anything to you,” Buffy informed him. “I didn’t even know you were back, until Xander saw Harmony!”

He barked out a mocking laugh, and jumped to his feet. “Oh, give it up, Slayer. I saw the whole shebang, all the labs, all the rats. You can’t exactly keep the wool over my eyes anymore, especially not know that you’ve gone and…” he gestured vaguely. “Done whatever it is you’ve done to me.”

“Spike I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you’ve gone cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.” 

Spike had been pacing, but now he stopped and turned to her. He stalked towards her, pausing mere centimeters away from her, and staring down into her eyes. And then his lifted his chin, and tilted his head. “That wasn’t your operation?” he asked. “All the lab coats, and the drugged packets of blood?”

“How the hell would I get an operation like that?” Buffy asked. “Where was that, anyway?”

Spike didn’t answer. He went back to pacing. And then he glanced at her, and with no warning, shifted in vamp face and charged at her. 

Buffy knocked him to the ground easily, but she almost didn’t need to, because Spike was again gripping his head and crying out. And he seemed to stop trying after that, and just lay where he was, the back of one hand limply on his forehead.

Buffy carefully knelt beside him, frowning. She was silent for a long time, until Spike moved his hand and blinked up at her. “Is this an act?” Buffy asked.

He gave her a slight frown. “What?”

“You can’t bite me,” Buffy said. “Or Willow. Without...being stopped, in a painful way. That’s what it looks like to me, anyway.”

Fear stole into his blue eyes, and he avoided her gaze. 

“So…” Buffy said. “Is that actually what’s happening, or is this an act? Because, if it is…” she whipped out her stake again, and pointed it in the general direction of his chest.

He didn’t move, and was silent for a time, until he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “It’s not an act,” he admitted, gruffly. 

“So it hurts? When you try to bite?”

He opened his eyes to glare at her. “No, it’s a gay romp in the park.”  
  
Buffy sighed. “Hurts how?”    
  
“Oh, sure, why don’t I give you a detailed analysis of all my weaknesses? If you’re going to kill me, Slayer, just bloody get it over with, and save us all a tiresome evening.”

Buffy punched his nose, and he grunted in pain, and without skipping a beat, he sat up and returned it. 

Except before his fist made contact, he once again screamed and slammed his palm against his forehead. And the look he gave her afterwards definitely was one of fear. 

Buffy tried not to smile...and really, given how pathetic he looked, it shouldn’t have been funny. But he was Spike, of the swagger, and the brash confidence and the cool leather coats, and he was looking at her like a dog that had its bone taken away. Her lip began to tremble with suppressed laughter. She bent towards him, reaching out her hand towards his head, and the fear in his eyes intensified, and he scooted back.

Buffy instantly drew her hand back, and he instantly scowled at her. As if pretending he hadn’t just shied away from her. As if pretending he hadn’t been afraid of her. 

“Let me see,” Buffy said, firmly. 

His eyes darted over her, questioning. “See what? There’s nothing to see, Slayer, whatever whammy’s been put on me isn’t going to be visible, is it?”

“Just let me see.” Buffy crawled towards him, carefully, and he stayed where he was, watching her distrustfully. Buffy carefully touched his arm, and he flinched, but let her pat him down. 

Buffy kept waiting for the dirty, suggestive comment that she knew was lingering behind his lips, but he didn’t make a sound. She didn’t linger, but was swift in her motions, feeling him for anything on him that might be hurting him when he moved. Though, it was interesting that it recognized what he was doing as harmful, and was trying to stop it. She moved around him to feel his back, and then made her way up to his head. 

He flinched when she reached his skull, and she stopped. “Hurts?” she asked, not unkindly. 

He didn’t answer, and she pressed the back of his head again, causing another flinch. “Yes, yeah, it hurts there, all right?”

Buffy leaned back on her heels, hands on her thighs. “Well,” she said. “Search over, then. They must have put something in your head. Whoever they were.”

Spike drew a breath, and then kept breathing. She wondered if he thought it would calm him, since he obviously didn’t need to be doing it. She moved back around in front of him, and he ducked his head away from her. 

“Well,” he said, and then didn’t seem to be able to think of anything else to say. 

Buffy didn’t either, really. “So,” she finally ventured. “What, uh...what happens now?”

Spike gave a half-shrug. “Really not my call anymore, is it?”

Something in his voice caught Buffy’s notice, and she twisted her head until she could see into his face. “Are you...are you crying?”

“No.”

A blatant lie, if she’d ever heard one. But he inhaled deeply through his nose, and looked up at her, proudly, and defiantly. She could see moisture in his eyes, but he was keeping it contained. He rose to his feet, and she rose with him. “What are you going to do?” he asked, his voice indifferent.  
  
“I don’t know.” Buffy felt extremely torn, and very annoyed with Spike for having to go and get himself a shock collar or whatever it was inside him. “I don’t know...I mean you’re still a vampire, still tried to kill me, and Willow just a minute ago…” She paused. He was watching her face, bravely, but poised as if he was ready to flee the minute she reached for a weapon. “But I think,” she said slowly. “For you, you don’t...this isn’t the end for you, you know. I’m sure you can live a long, happy, vampire life...or whatever, without harming anyone else. Most other people do that, anyway.”

He was so quiet, and Buffy felt an unprecedented urge to just tell him it would be all right. Funny, they could have maybe reached that point much sooner if he’d ever shut up for once in his life. She reached her fingers out towards his cheek. “Spike…”

But the power went out just before her fingers made contact. Spike lunged for the door, wrenched it open, and barrelled right into several of the mysterious commando guys. The commandos caught Spike, briefly anyway, it seemed, but they began fighting her, too, and Buffy had enough to worry about what with fire extinguishers being shot and flare guns going off to really notice that Spike had slipped away, until the commandos reported such an occurrence, and filed away as quickly as they’d come.


	23. Real Me

“So Xander says Anya’s still a little out of it,” Willow warned the group. “She’s still got kind of a concussion, and she’s really...uh…” she looked at Dawn, and said, “She thinks the medicine...tastes...really good.”   
  
Buffy looked back at Dawn, but Dawn didn’t seem to be picking up on the euphemism. She was jumping up and trying to see in all the closed doors they passed. Buffy felt sorry for the startled patients inside who were about to see a pair of big blue eyes suddenly come out of nowhere and then disappear. 

At least it was better than some demons who plagued the place. And thinking about that made Buffy shudder. She still hated hospitals, but, every time one of them seemed to land in one, it was a Scooby Gang Field Trip. Even for something as minor as a broken arm and concussion.

Willow led the group down the hall, and turned into one of the rooms, where Xander rose from Anya’s bedside to greet them. “Hey guys!” he said, grinning. “Look, Anya, balloons!”   
  
“Ooh!” Anya said, sitting up, and clapping her hands. “Presents! You didn’t tell me humans get presents for being weak!”

Tara smiled, and handed her the balloons, as Buffy slipped some flowers into a vase, and Giles handed her a box of chocolate. She beamed at all of them, but then she turned to Dawn and her smile fell. “Who is that?” she asked.

Buffy’s eyes widened, and she turned, bracing herself for a demon. But there was nothing there. Was it the Kinder Egg again, or whatever it had been called? But she’d killed it, she was sure she’d killed it…

“Anya,” Xander said. “That’s just Dawn.”   
  
“Who?” Panic was lighting up Anya’s eyes, and she began shuddering. “That’s not...no, she’s not a thing, she’s…just...empty…”

Dawn looked at Anya in horror, and suddenly seemed about to cry. Tara immediately walked over to Dawn’s side, and took her hand. “Come on, Dawnie,” she said sweetly. “You can pick something out at the vending machine.” She led the girl away, and Buffy gave her a grateful nod as they passed.

Anya had started thrashing, and Xander was holding her down by her shoulders. “An!” he cried. “Come on, what’s the matter?”   
  
Anya had squeezed her eyes shut, but she stopped, opened them, and looked around cautiously. “Where did she go?”   


“Just down the hall,” Willow reassured her.

“She’s still there?” Anya asked. “But she might come back, it might be evil, Buffy, you have to kill it!”   
  
Buffy felt her face starting to match the one she’d just seen on her sister’s. Horrified, and like she might be about to cry. 

“I’ll...just go find a doctor,” Giles said quickly, and walked out of the room as well. 

“Anya,” Xander said frantically. “Look, I know the stuff they have you on is making you kinda...loopy, but surely you remember Dawn? Buffy’s little sister? Moved with her to Sunnydale five years ago? We played the Game of Life with her last night, and you kept winning?”

Anya stared at him blankly, then blinked her eyes. “We went over to Buffy’s house…” she said slowly. “We played games. Just you and me, Xander, there was no one else…” she shifted uncomfortably. “I want more morphine,” she announced.

“I’ll have to see about that,” a woman said, as she walked in the room, followed by Giles. “How are you feeling, Anya?”    
  
“My arm hurts,” Anya muttered.    
  
“Mm,” the woman said. She shone a light in Anya’s eyes, then checked her monitor and a clipboard. “We can give you a little more morphine, but then I’m cutting you off.” She said the last part with a grin. 

“She was kinda freaking out,” Xander said anxiously. “And didn’t remember one of us...is that normal?”

The doctor shrugged. “Concussions will cause brief lapses in memory, yes. I’m sure she’ll be over that by the end of the day, and you can take her home.” She smiled reassuringly, adjusted the drugs flowing into Anya’s hand, and then left the room.

Buffy watched her go, and then looked back at Anya. Anya was now lying very still, with half-closed eyes, her head tilted sideways. But Buffy looked closer, and noticed a tear leaking out of one of Anya’s eyes.

“Hey,” Xander whispered, stroking the top of her head. “Anya, honey, what is it?” 

“Dawn,” Anya barely whispered. “Is she okay…”

Xander puffed out a sigh of relief, and looked up at the group. Buffy shared a concerned look with Giles, and they glanced back towards the bed.

“Yeah,” Xander said. “Yes, that was last night. Vampires took her, and you were very brave trying to protect her. But it’s okay. Buffy saved her, and she dusted the vamps. Well,” he shrugged. “The ones that were maybe a threat, anyway.”

“And Harmony is completely disinvited now,” Willow said proudly.

Anya shifted her head, looking up at Xander. “I meant just now,” she said in a low voice. “Did I...did I scare her?”   
  
Xander kissed the top of her head. “She’s fine. She knows people say weird things from hospital beds. When Buffy was in the hospital she spouted all kinds of crazy things.”   
  
Anya nodded, and closed her eyes, and Willow and Buffy and Giles silently filed out of the room. Buffy threw Giles another concerned look as they hovered outside the door. “What do you think that was about?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them. “But I’m...sure it really was just the injury. And the drugs. I’m sure there’s no reason to be concerned.”


	24. Helpless

Giles barely glanced in Travers’ direction as he headed out of the library. He looked up at Buffy instead, watched her shaking hands, saw her reach for the cloth on the table to try and tend to her own wound. 

His little Slayer...his little girl...how had he ever allowed himself to be ruled by the Council when it came to her? He didn’t care that his job was gone now. He probably would have walked away anyway, after this. How dare they hurt her, how  _ dare they _ make him have put her in a position to cause that bruise on her hand, or that gash on her forehead?

Without a word, Giles stepped over to her, and carefully took the cloth out of her hand. He knelt before her, and gently dabbed at her injury. For a long, horrible moment, she wouldn’t look at him. She allowed him to touch her, and that was something, but if he had lost her…

And then she did look at him. Only for a second, but there wasn’t...wasn’t avid hatred. He hardly dared to meet her gaze, but he did, and she just looked so broken, and so little. She was so young. Too young. Giles had always believed firmly in the whole Slayer and Watcher system, but now he hated anyone who had ever been the reason for it coming into existence in the first place. 

Because they dared to touch his Buffy.

She’d kept her tears in for a while, but he could see her resolve shaking. She waited until he was done tending to her face, however. It took several more minutes, and Giles had to search his office until he found some surgical tape to patch up her forehead wound with. But when he was done, he started to draw back, and she slid off the chair, onto the floor, and into his arms. 

And then she cried. It was like a dam breaking loose with how much she cried. Giles had been bracing himself for it, but he wasn’t prepared for all the stabbings to his heart her sobs would cause. He’d never seen her so distraught, and he began hating Travers and the Council and himself all over again. 

He held her tightly, willing his own tears to stay back where they belonged, thank you very much. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and he could do nothing to stop the quavering in his voice. “Oh, my dear girl, I can’t...I’ve never been sorrier for anything.”

She tensed in his arms, but didn’t pull away. She kept crying, for a long while, and Giles didn’t say anything more. But he was determined to hold on to her, for as long as she needed it. 

When her sobs finally began to subside, Giles began working up the courage to say something. He delicately took her shoulders, and moved her back so he could look into her face.   
  
That was a mistake. She looked even more forlorn now, with her eyes all puffy, and big and wet, in addition to the injuries. He instantly folded her back into his chest, and said, in a low murmur, “Will you feel up to going to your ice show this weekend?”   
  
She stiffened again, and he was glad he couldn’t see her face. “I’m not going to that,” she said, her voice muffled. “There’s no one to take me.”

“You asked me to, didn’t you?”

She was silent, and his heart began pounding. He’d been beyond flattered when she had asked him, but that was, of course, while his little betrayal was going on, and she didn’t yet know it. He didn’t feel right saying yes right before he stabbed her in the back. But now she knew...now it was all in the open...now she either hated him or was willing to forgive him.

But all she finally said was, “I threw the tickets away.”

He stroked the back of her head, and carefully pulled her away from him. He made sure she was sitting up against the chair, then quietly rose, and went in search of his jacket. He returned to her, again sitting on the floor in front of her, and reached into the jacket, pulling out a crumpled pair of tickets.

She looked at them in disbelief, then up at his face. She still wasn’t smiling, and he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “How many other things are you going behind my back about?” she asked coldly.

Giles cleared his throat, and looked down at the tickets. “I...I spoke to your mother. About them. Asked if she would be all right with me taking you.” He shifted, trying not to remember the awkwardness of that conversation, and how determined he and Joyce had both seemed to be not to look at each other’s faces, or really in each other’s general vicinity at all. “She’d found these in the trash,” he said, laying the tickets on Buffy’s knee. “She salvaged them. I think she was still hoping you’d let her take you...but she seemed pleased that you wanted me to go.” He looked cautiously into her face. “If you’ll still have me, that is.”  
  
Buffy swallowed, painfully, it looked like. She touched the tickets with the tips of her fingers. “I trusted you,” she whispered.

Giles closed his eyes. “I know.”

“I might have expected my dad to bail,” Buffy breathed. “But you, I thought…”

Giles was quiet. There was nothing more to say. Buffy kept her fingers on the tickets, finally clenching them in her hand. She looked up at him. “I expect cotton candy,” she said. “And a souvenir program.”  
  
Giles beamed at her. “I think that can be arranged.”


	25. Get it Done

They were all staring at her, looking extremely worse for wear, but Buffy couldn’t think of anything to do besides just looking at all of them in turn. Dawn was finally the first one to step forward, and touch Buffy’s arm. 

“Are you okay?” she whispered.    
  
“Yeah,” Buffy said. She again looked at the group. At Anya, Kennedy, Spike, Willow, Xander. “Are--are you guys?”   
  
None of them answered. Kennedy took off towards the stairs, and Xander let go of Willow to let her run after. Xander finally flashed Buffy a quick smile. “You’re back,” he said. “That’s the important thing.”   
  
“That’s one opinion,” Anya muttered, but Buffy pretended not to hear it. 

Spike straightened up, and Buffy noticed his coat for the first time. Sure, his face was knocked up too, and as he headed towards the door she could see the tiniest trace of a limp, but the coat…

She felt sick, and then realized Dawn was still touching her arm. “I’m okay,” Buffy said, slipping her arms around her sister. “Really. You can go to bed, now.”

Dawn squeezed tightly for a moment. “Don’t do that again,” she whispered.

Buffy gave a wan smile. “Promise.”

Dawn headed off towards the stairs, and Xander gave Buffy another smile as he and Anya headed towards the kitchen. 

And Buffy was alone, and the vision those last few moments in...whatever world she’d been in...came back to her, and she didn’t want to think about it. She hastened towards the front door, and wrenched it open, remembering at the last second not to slam it behind her. 

Spike was leaning against a post, cigarette dangling from his lips with his hands shoved in his coat pockets. He wasn’t facing her, and he didn’t turn as she stepped forward. Buffy stood next to him, folding her arms, and staring out into the night. 

He was silent, and when she realized he was going to stay that way, she gave him a sideways glance. “What happened?” she whispered. 

Spike pulled his cigarette out and dropped it, idly crushing it under his boot. “You went in, and a demon came out,” he said, shortly. “Will got the portal back open, I killed the demon and sent it through. Then there you were. End of story.”

“Not end of story,” Buffy said. “You guys all looked like hell. Not just you and Willow.”

He shrugged. “So, there were hitches. Not entirely unexpected.”

“Spike…” she touched his arm, but to her surprise, he pulled it away from her. And then whipped towards her. 

“What?” he snapped. “You choose now to start fussing? To mollycoddle and fret and try to protect us? We’re fighting a war, love, and people are gonna get hurt.” He gave a rueful laugh. “Can’t have anyone squeamish about that idea hanging about, can we? Need to jump in, both feet first, and take what’s coming.”

Buffy frowned. “I need you fighting, yes. I need you guys to all step up when I ask, but that doesn’t mean…”

“I know good and well what it means, Slayer. Don’t worry, your message came through loud and clear.”

Buffy’s face hardened. “I’m not going to apologize for anything I said earlier, Spike. To any of you. You need to hear it, and you need to know what’s expected.”

He stepped towards her, looking down into her eyes. His own were blazing, and he gave her a tiny smirk that she somehow found unnerving. “What’s expected,” he whispered. “And what would that be, sweetheart? You need me hard, that it? You need me to fight the battles no one else can? You need me to go out in a blaze of glory protecting everyone else? You--”

Buffy hit his nose. She hadn’t intended to, but there was a look stealing into his gaze that was more than just unnerving now. It was a look that she hadn’t seen in a long time, one she’d thought had left when the soul arrived. 

He recoiled, and then glared at her, swinging at her jaw. She shoved his shoulders, pushing him off the porch, and he grabbed her arm, pulling her with him. She punched his nose again as she went down, and wriggled away from him. Spike jumped on her back as she was crawling away, and she twisted, grabbing his waist, and tussled and rolled and punched until she finally ended up on top. And she punched his nose once more, before this, all of it, everything about this scenario came flooding back to her, and she scurried off of him in horror. 

He lay on his back for a moment, before pushing himself up on just his elbows. He watched her curiously, and she glared at him. 

“Stop,” Buffy said in a heated voice. “Stop it, Spike.”   
  
“Thought we had, pet. You’ve left me intact, for once.” 

That stung, that stung so much, and Buffy felt lost just by hearing it. She wanted to scream, she wanted to hit him some more, but mostly she just wanted to crawl in his arms and cry and tell him to make the fight go away, because she was so tired, and she couldn’t deal with it, and she couldn’t carry everyone the way she had been, and they probably all hated her for saying what she did but she couldn’t exactly take it back or they’d lose respect for her as a leader…

But how could she do any of that when Spike had closed himself off from her and she’s apparently succeeded in finally making him do so?   
  
But then she looked up at his eyes, and besides the cold, calculation intensity of his gaze, she suddenly saw something else behind them. This was a front. This was armor. She glanced down at the coat again. 

And she forced herself to be mature. She slowly stood up. “Take off the coat,” she said in a low voice.

An electric bolt of panic shot through his eyes, and her heart simultaneously ached and soared at the thought that  _ that,  _ at least, still was a line he wasn’t willing to cross.

“Just the coat,” she said. “Now. Please.”   


His defenses were still down, and he seemed to be struggling to get them back up. But he carefully shifted to his knees, and slid the coat off. Buffy held her hand out, and, watching her carefully, he put it in her hand. 

Buffy turned, and sat back on the porch. “Come here,” she said softly. Spike was different. Different from everyone else in that house. Her strongest warrior, her deadliest ally, and she remembered the way she’d gotten him to respond to her in these last several months. She could do this. He could do this. 

Spike slowly stood, walked over to her, and sank down beside her. Buffy folded the coat in her lap, and stared straight in front of her for a while. And then she leaned her head on his shoulder.

He nearly choked, which was an adorable sound all on its own. But he didn’t do or say anything else. 

“I’m sorry,” Buffy whispered. “I pushed you too hard.”   
  
He hesitated. “Not sure I’m following.”

“You are, that’s the point,” Buffy said. “You follow too well. You rise to every challenge I present you with, even if I don’t even know I’m presenting it. You became better for me, you became softer for me, and now, today…” she swallowed. “You became what you needed to be. You were a warrior. With your warrior vampire coat. The Spike who wanted to kill me.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t breathe...not that he needed to.

“And I’m sorry,” Buffy whispered again. “Sorry that I pushed you too hard in that direction. I know this whole redemption thing is difficult enough for you as it is and you don’t need me...to tempt you.”

He remained quiet and still for a very long moment. Buffy liked to think she could predict him, some of the time anyway, but right now her heart was pounding in fear. She didn’t know whether she’d reached him. Didn’t know whether she’d lost him. 

When he finally laid his hand on one of hers, she felt an absolute tidal wave of relief. “No need to fret about that, Buffy,” he murmured. “You were right, you know. What you said about me.”   


“No, I wasn’t.”   
  
“Yes.” His head turned to look at her, so Buffy slightly raised hers to look into his earnest gaze. “You were.” He raised his hand to lightly ghost her cheek with his fingers. “Everything you said to them was correct, too, even if it was a bitter pill to swallow. And it’s not your fault if I started swinging too hard the other way.” He gave a sad smile. “Not sure how much of that wasn’t due to the anger I felt knowing you were in some bloody other dimension, however.”

Buffy gave a slight laugh, and his hand dropped back down to hers, giving it a light squeeze. “I can’t believe I jumped into that portal,” she said. 

“Did you find what you needed?”

Buffy tried to block out the memory of her vision again. “I don’t know.”   
  
Spike was silent again, before saying in a low voice, “You make redemption easier, Buffy. I’m sorry for slipping up.”

Buffy finally sat up, and drew a breath. “If you didn’t slip up sometimes, I’d be suspicious,” she said, and grinned.

He returned it, and held his hand out. “Well, that’s a bloody comfort. Does this mean I can have my coat back, now?”


End file.
